Operation Albatross
by SLimac
Summary: A series of one shots set after Emma and Killian are saved from the darkness where she, Killian and Henry attempt to fix up an old house by the water. A fresh start. A real home. A family. This is Operation Albatross.
1. Operation Albatross

_A/N:_ I know I've posted this before in Deserved Cold (Among Other Things) but I decided to flesh this out more and it no longer fit with that series of one shots. So this new story will be one-shots of the house and Emma's family as they try to figure out how to move on, how to interact with the changing dynamic of their family and maybe even how to plumb a sink. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators Adam and Eddie.

 _Emma._

The familiar figure was crumpled on the ground, blonde curls matted from the swirling winds, bare skin scratched and bleeding from the rocks and glass shards the tornado had swirled around her. The darkness had ripped from her, a swirling crescendo that had blown out every window in the area. Emma had been in the center, not that Killian or anyone else that had helped to free her, could see. But they could _hear._ Killian's heart was breaking, more painful than when The Crocodile had tried to crush it. And Killian had been powerless to stop it.

And then it was over. A flash of white light exploded from her, knocking everyone on their backs, groans and yells as bodies collided and smashed into the pavement while the darkness seemed to disappear. Killian had been the first up, using his hook as leverage to push up from the glass littered ground. David was up next but Killian had already raced over to her, kneeling just far enough away that she wouldn't feel crowded but close enough that he could pull her into his arms at a moment's notice should that be required.

David didn't come as close, instead using his position as both sheriff and prince to keep the growing crowd back. The last thing Emma needed was the entire town descending on her right after she'd been saved from the curse of the dark one. No one in the little rescue party even knew if Emma would remember a life before that fateful night her name had been so coldly carved into shining steal, or if she'd ever find that saviour spark again. Emma had done terrible things but she'd also been able to fight of others, Killian being witness to it. She'd attacked him the previous week but turned and left, dropping Killian from her grasp around his neck right before he was going to pass out, that bit of Emma, the _real_ Emma, glinting through the eyes that had so aloofly been staring into his earlier.

Which was how Killian knew there was _something_ left. What exactly, would be revealed in time. But that sliver that he had seen was enough to give him the strength to reach out to her. Stretched fingers were only an inch from her arm when Emma finally noticed, jumping away with a shriek, stumbling in her dissolving strength and falling to the ground. She let out a strangled sob when she landed on the glass riddled ground and Killian's heart broke a little more.

"Emma?" Killian asked quietly, voice no more than a whisper but Emma caught it, shoulders tensing but head turning towards his voice involuntarily. "Swan, love, it's me. It's Killian. Your Killian." Emma's shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly. Killian's heart soared. "Can I come a little closer?" When she didn't answer Killian shifted, booted feet shuffling against the ground as he moved forward in the crouching position. "That's my girl," Killian murmured, shuffling a few more inches forward when she still didn't move. "You're home now, Emma. You're safe, my love." Finally he reached her. As soon as Killian was able to grasp her she lunged forward, shoulders wracked with sobs. Even Killian was shaking from it as he held her close to his chest. But he wouldn't allow himself to cry. Not yet.

Regina came into view a question in her eyes. Killian nodded and they disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke.

That was three days ago.

Emma still barely talked. Only really grunting out answered when she absolutely had to. She didn't say anything when Regina's spell landed them in the loft, when Henry burst through the door, her parents hot on his heels and everyone crying. She said nothing but a vaguely positive mewl when Killian suggested they save the reunion until the shock wore off and led her to bed. She'd grasped his hand when he tried to walk away from the mattress, intent on finding her clothes that weren't bloodied or torn and cleaning her wounds. But her grip didn't relent, even when he explained himself, so, unable to deny her anything, even something so practical, he slid into bed next to his Swan and pulled the bed clothes high around them, even their shoes still on. Despite the uncomfortable sleeping clothing and the still dirty cuts that were beginning to itch, Killian slept properly for the first time since Emma had disappeared.

But after three days Killian had had it. Emma's family, while well-meaning was just being _too much._ They just wanted to help so much that their help turned into smothering and Emma started to shrink back into the shell she'd been the first night, the one Killian had slowly been dismantling. She'd started saying a few words here and there to him, her voice always making his heart skip a beat. But she stopped after Killian had had to forcibly remove Mary Margaret from Emma's room for the fourth time that hour.

"Swan, love?" Killian asked, drawing her attention from where she'd been studying a particularly nasty scrape on her arm and trying to avoid eye contact with her mother. "How's about we get out of here?" That got her attention, sharp eyes training on his face, waiting for him to continue. "Let's go to the Jolly for a few days, relax, figure things out." Before Killian could continue they both disappeared in a cloud of silver smoke.

Killian landed hard on the deck of The Jolly Roger, Emma coming down gracefully beside him "Oops," she murmured, a slight smirk picking up her lips. Killian laughed as if she'd said something one hundred times as funny, but the laugh was more relief that humour. Killian clamoured up.

"Go downstairs love, if you wish. I'm going to get us sailing, put some distance between us and the town." Emma nodded, seemingly relieved at the prospect of distance. When she'd gone below deck Killian pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to Henry, explaining the situation, calling it Operation Albatross. If anyone could control Swan's grandparents and keep them from swimming after the ship it was Henry. Killian had grown even more fond of the lad during Emma's stint as the dark one, had even entertained the boy's idea of moving in together as it was what Emma would have wanted, for them to be a family and have a space for her to return to that was _theirs._ Killian had managed to dissuade him then because Emma's parents had needed him more but now that Emma was back, well, maybe that place by the water was still vacant.

Killian made quick work of getting the ship sailing once Henry had replied with a quick _On it._ Killian didn't want to go far from town, just in case, so he sailed the ship until it was just outside the mouth of the harbour, hidden from view of the town, and dropped anchor.

Killian went below deck, curious and somewhat apprehensive as to what he would find. On one hand Emma had been immediately game to go but on the other she may just have craved the isolation the Jolly promised. It was easy to find Emma; she'd gone straight to the captain's quarters, standing at the window, looking out.

"Good afternoon, love."

Emma gave him the first tentative smile he'd seen since getting her back. Killian grinned back.

"So what shall we do," Killian asked, putting the ball once more in her court. Emma watched him for a few moments, then turned to the window.

"Can we- can we talk?"

Killian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Emma suggesting that on her own was unexpected but maybe she realized that Killian was the right person to talk to, reformed villain and all. Killian moved the large wooden desk and leaned against it, a few feet behind Emma, not wanting to crowd her.

"Whenever you're ready, Swan. I'll be here."

Emma nodded still staring out the window. Killian waited. The deep intake of breath was earsplittingly loud in the silent room. Killian still waited.

Finally:

"I did some terrible things." Emma's voice was shaky, breaking occasionally. But the tone she used left no room for Killian to jump in and ease the pain which was probably exactly what Emma wanted. "I hurt people I had never met before. I hurt people I loved. I nearly killed you because the darkness tried to convince me you were the only thing standing in the way." Killian could also remind her she'd saved him, won out and walked away. But he stayed quiet, kept waiting.

"Sometimes I even enjoyed it. Sometimes the power was so heady I never wanted to come down, never wanted to be saved." Killian nodded even though her back was turned. Because he knew the feeling. Knew that the hunt, the vengeance, the power, it could all corrupt and addict so easily. First it had been Pan, then Rumplestiltskin, then a mix of both, a never ending, multiple century long battle. That he hadn't grown weary of, running on anger until that's all there was. At least until he met Emma.

"It's why I went after you. Why I listened." Emma's fingers gripped the wooden windowsill, knuckles turning white under the pressure. "Because it started to convince me again that love was weakness, which meant you were a major weakness. Along with everyone else. But you went first. Because the darkness was there when I told you, when I-"

"I love you, too," Killian answered quietly, finally speaking. And more importantly, _finally_ saying those words. Emma turned, tears streaking down her face, eyes widened in surprise. Had she really thought Killian of all people could stop loving her? But of course she had, because she was still Swan. "I love you, nothing that has happened has lessened that. Actually I think I love you more now after seeing the strength you showed to be able to defeat the darkness."

Emma nodded, looking a bit confused but even more relieved. She didn't say it back but Killian knew Emma had to continue her story first. She had to get it all out now. "So I went after you. And at first it felt so good. I was _so_ close. And then you just stopped fighting because it was me. You were going to let me win. Something in me just snapped then and I felt strong for the first time since I took the darkness because I wasn't caving to the temptation, I was going to _fight_ it. And the darkness started to cowed which gave me more confidence and then, well you know the rest," Emma ended, somewhat sheepishly. Killian did know the rest, still had the circle of bruises around his neck to prove it. But he didn't point that out.

"I was in control for a while, managed to run, find a safe place to hide the dagger. I kept fighting but I was getting so _tired_ and it was whispering such alluring things to me. You guys found me about a day later but the darkness was still having a hard time finding the dagger which thankfully you had." Emma paused, remembering. She'd left the dagger on top of Henry's book, stealing in during the dead of night. That was how the group of heroes had found her dagger then summoned her to Main Street. A heartfelt plea from Killian to _remember_ followed by a kiss.

"And now here I am trying to reconcile the pleasure I'd felt as the Dark One with the guilt I have as the saviour. And I don't know how to make it better."

Emma finally ended her story, voice breaking and falling into loud, body wracking sobs. Killian opened his arms and she fell into them, holding on as if she were lost at sea and Killian was her only rescue line.

"It's hard to make the two fit," Killian started after her sobs had quieted enough to be heard. "And I'm not sure it ever will. But after a while, with love," he gave her an extra squeeze, trying to convey just how important she'd been to his transformation, "hope, and a lot of faith they start to balance out. You're still the saviour, Emma, love. You always will be. No matter what you do. You became the dark one to ensure Regina got her happy ending. That was an amazing gift. Because that's the kind of person you are. With time you'll start feeling like that again. You'll start to see all the good you do, even when you're hurting. So start looking for that. Start with me. See how I'm more Killian Jones than Hook now because of you."

"Maybe I can do that," Emma replied after a long moment of silence, still holding Killian though closer to a hug than a desperate clinging.

"Aye, I think you can," Killian confirmed, voice ringing with undeniable confidence. They stood in silence, just holding each other, Killian occasionally kissing the top of Emma's golden hair and Emma rubbing her nose and cheeks against Killian's chest every once and a while.

Henry's specific ringtone shrilled out into the silent cabin from Killian's phone. They both jumped at the intrusion. Killian was going to leave it, just until Emma seemed okay again. Since Henry knew what he was up to it probably wasn't urgent. If it was he could call Regina or David.

But Emma seemed to have other plans. She slipped her hand down his back, fingers plucking the phone from his back pocket in a way that made Killian involuntarily groan deep in the back of his throat. Emma smiled slighty at that as she opened the message and read it out loud.

 _Found a house by the water for us. Enough space, on the water, a bit of a fixer upper but we've never shied away from a challenge. It's on Albatross Lane. We just can't turn it down now._

Emma shot Killian a puzzled look when he burst out laughing. _Albatross Lane._ Of course that would exist.

"What's Henry planning?" Emma asked a bit confused but hopefully enough that Killian knew she had already guessed and just needed to hear it from his mouth.

"Henry wants to move out of the loft. With me. With _us,"_ Killian amended. "Has been looking for places since you left," Killian didn't need to specify for her to understand, answering with a somber nod. "But I told the lad he needed to stay at the loft until we found you, to be there for his family. It appears the boy has resumed looking. The street name, Albatross, well that was the name of our operation to make you feel better. Operation Albatross."

Emma looked up at him in wonder, the previous hollowness starting to fade. Her face may have been pale, scraped and tear stained but in that moment he looked more like his Emma than she had in months.

"Henry wants us to move in together?"

"All three of us."

"As a family." Emma seemed to be tasting the word, as if it were new even though she had her parents. But this was something more, something new. Emma's own family. Two of the most important men in her life that she had found, or rather had found her.

"Aye, love, a family."

The next moment the Jolly Roger had disappeared and Emma and Killian were standing on an unfamiliar lane, the sound of waves crashing not far behind them. In front of them sat an old New England saltshaker style house, a large front porch running the length of the front with a door that was at one time probably red in the center. The grass was overgrown, the gardens full of weeds and sea grass and it looked like no one had lived there for at least a few years prior.

"What are we doing here love?" Killian asked, surprised at his surrounding, glancing around for any familiar landmarks. They certainly weren't anywhere near where the Jolly had been anchored. Finally he spotted a street sign. _Albatross Lane._

"I wanted to see the house before we tell Henry we bought it."

"Bought it?" Killian's mind was reeling.

"I need a new beginning," Emma answered before Killian could say anything more, staring hard at the house. "Away from what I had been before. Because I'm not that person anymore. But I'm still Emma Swan which means I still need my son and you by my side to help me find her again. And where better a place to start this new life we have than Albatross Lane?"

Killian couldn't believe his luck, couldn't process that he and Emma were moving in together. That they would have their own space that wasn't her parents' house or Granny's Inn. That they could carve out their own live as reformed heroes together with her son. But it was really happening. Killian Jones, naval officer, pirate, villain, hero had found a home with the people he loved, the family he thought he'd never have again after Liam and Milah and Bae. And he'd found it with the woman who saw right through him and saved him because she was so much like him. And he was so lucky for that.

"Aye love," Killian forced out around a throat constricted with emotion. "Where better?"


	2. The Yard

_A/N:_ Here's another one-shot about the house. I'm not sure how I feel about it writing wise but hopefully you all like it. I promise I'll have an update for A Bounty of Paint Pots soon, I just need to figure some things out first and this is easier to write. Let me know what you think and what room you think I should do next in the series or anything else you want to see. Thanks! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Emma pushed sweaty hair from her forehead, the breeze coming off the water instantly turning the suntanned skin clammy. Not that Emma minded at all. Now discomfort seemed very different. Because now she knew it was only temporary. Before, well, the darkness had been very persuasive.

Emma shook herself out of the thoughts and bent back to work, using the scraper she'd bought at the hardware store earlier that day to peel at the paint on the deck. It was the first project on their new house, which had closed the previous day. Killian had thought she'd lost it again when she suggested painting the deck before moving all their furniture in. But Emma couldn't shake the need to fix up the outside of the house before she moved in. This house was her- _their_ \- new beginning and she needed it fresh, to look like a clean slate. To reflect them.

Killian had eventually given up on arguing, finally getting that Emma wouldn't have it any other way. Just like the realtor had figured it out when Emma didn't want to push the sellers into an obscenely cheap offer that might take days to be accepted. She wanted what was right and she wanted it _now_ , no time for arguing or bartering. Hence why they had the keys to the house on Albatross Lane within a week. And why she was covered in old white paint chips, kneeling on a salt weathered deck.

Emma scraped at the paint in long, hard strokes while she waited for Killian to come back from the hardware store. He'd left a half hour previously to get some lumber to fix the bottom step of the porch and a few cans of exterior paint. Emma knew that she could avoid the pain in her hands and knees by snapping her fingers to remove the paint but she didn't want to use magic. She wanted to feel like she had done something herself under nothing more than the power of her own two hands.

A beige truck rumbled into the driveway as she was nearing completion of the main part of the deck, the rungs her next mission. David and Killian jumped out, grabbing the supplies from the bed of the truck. The two men had bonded while Emma was gone, a bond that hadn't been forgotten when the search for Emma had ended. It may have even been strengthened, obvious when Killian had denied Emma's offer to drive him into town, saying he'd call Dave instead.

Killian walked up the path Henry had made out of flattened beach rocks the previous evening, paint cans hanging from hand and hook while David followed with the 2x4s. Henry had been ecstatic that Emma had no hesitation in the house and therefore hadn't questioned her need to fix up the outside first, probably scared questioning would make her start to doubt herself. The path Henry had serenely said as he meticulously placed the stones was important as it was meant to lead them home.

"Hello, love," Killian greeted, setting the paint cans on the step that wasn't partially rotted. "You've been busy."

Emma sat back, leaning against the porch railings. She nodded. "It feels good," she told him. "Should be ready to paint as soon as I finish the rungs."

Killian gave her a proud smile, the one she'd been getting a lot lately. Killian was so thrilled to have her back, not just from the darkness but from the all-consuming sadness and guilt, that he was pleased at whatever she did, be that make toast or completely redo a deck.

"I'm sure your mother wouldn't mind helping with that," David told coming back from a second trip to the truck with his tool kit.

"I'll call her after lunch," Emma replied. Even though Mary Margaret was trying to smother her with kindness and protection Emma couldn't deny that she enjoyed having her back, understood the need to dote and be close. Anyways, it was what everyone else was trying to do to her. It wasn't her place to pick and choose who was allowed to show affection.

"She'd love that," David replied with a smile as he got down to work on the step. Killian kissed Emma's sweaty forehead, not seeming to mind a bit, then went to help David. Emma watched them for a few moments, working together so well she barely recognized the past enemies. It wasn't until Killian looked up, catching her staring and winking in return that she went back to work, paint chips flying from the rungs.

By one o'clock they were all sweating, the sun high in the sky, but they were done of the prep stage. The step was new and sturdy, the deck boards and rungs scraped down to greyed wood. They all sat in the shade of the house, relaxing.

"Call your mother," David mumbled, sun coaxing him to sleep, "I need Granny's."

Emma laughed and sent a quick text to her mother which was equally as quickly replied to. "She's on her way," Emma mumbled, the tiredness of physical work settling into her bones as well. She slid sideways and nestled into Killian's side, his arm going around her instantly. The soft stroking of her hair by his gentle hand lulled her to sleep.

"Well I can see you all are working hard," an amused voice called, waking Emma. She jumped, knocking over the sleeping Killian as she scrambled up. She startled so easily now, eyes darting frantically to spot the newcomer. But it was just Mary Margaret in front of them wearing a pair of old overalls and a striped grey shirt underneath, arms laden with paint brushes and bags of Granny's takeout. "Oh, Emma," Mary Margaret cooed when she noticed how Emma's chest heaved. Emma put her hand up, she was fine, just needed a second. With time calming herself was becoming easier.

The commotion had woken the two men, Killian standing as soon as he saw Emma. He slid his arm around her stomach, pulling her against his chest. He held tight, forcing her to breathe at the same pace he did. To anyone passing on the street it would just look like a couple enjoying each other's company but it was so much more than that. It was now habit, the routine staving off day-wrecking and daily panic attacks.

After a few slow breaths Emma pushed herself away, trying to smile warmly at Mary Margaret who was worrying at her lip, glancing frantically at David.

"I hope you brought lots," Emma called cheerily, "I'm starving."

Her tone broke Mary Margaret from her trance. "Have you ever known me not to bring enough food?" The rest of the crowd laughed, David taking the bags from his wife and spreading the takeout containers out on the deck. It was too nice to eat inside and it wasn't as if there was a table in there at all anyways.

"I think some lupins would be nice out here, don't you think?" Mary Margaret asked, motioning to the expanse of grass in front of them.

Emma gazed out at her yard as she chewed slowly on her grilled cheese. The yard made her feel grown up, like she'd finally got out of the system. Emma knew logically that she had a long time ago and now even had a family of her own. But her own house, with a proper yard, that was different. Most of the homes she'd been in as a child had been shared, either apartments, duplexes or so crowded that there was no space to think. Even Mary Margaret and David had an apartment. None of them had yards Emma could decide what to do with. A lot of her childhood spaces had small patches of grass but she'd have had her hide tanned if she had tried to plant anything in them. And it wasn't as if jail had a lot of green space.

"And maybe a rose bush," Killian mused beside Emma before stealing an onion ring from her takeout box. "My mother had a wild rose bush." Emma put her head against Killian's shoulder trying to comfort as well as show her appreciation for his sharing.

"I could go to the greenhouse today," Mary Margaret suggested, excitement lighting up her eyes. "The gardens would be done by tonight."

"You just don't want to paint," David accused lightly to which Mary Margaret shrugged lightly.

"Everyone knows I'm better with wildlife." Mary Margaret gave them a smug little smile as she stood. "And plants count too, Charming-" she called, cutting off any further argument from her spouse. She grabbed David's keys, gave the yard one last appraising look, then disappeared with the truck, intent on loading the bed with flower pots.

With lunch finished and cleared the three who were left began work again, painting the deck and the door. The deck was done in a bright white, the door in an equally vibrant red. They were the original colours that had been on the house when bought and Emma wanted to keep it that way. Killian hadn't had a problem with it either, even coming home the first day after seeing the place, no ownership over the house at all, with a brass door knocker in the shape of an anchor.

Mary Margaret returned an hour after she'd left, truck laden with not only lupins and rose bushes but all kinds of wildflowers and new topsoil. She set to work, just as determined as the others to finish that day. Henry arrived after school and was not-so-gently coerced by his grandmother into helping her with the flowers.

By seven the sun was starting to set and they were all exhausted and dirty, paint splattered and sweaty. They stood in a group in front of the house, Emma leaning against Killian. Emma hadn't yet got her strength back from her time with the darkness and she may have pushed herself a bit too much that day. But Killian would always be there to hold her up and that was what mattered.

"It's perfect," Emma sighed, examining the day's handiwork. The paint was still wet but it was bright and chip-free. The porch was welcoming, the perfect place to put some seating to enjoy the ocean breeze while eating breakfast. The door was a sharp contrast to the greyed shingles covering the saltshaker house. The gardens teemed with lupins and daisies and brown-eyed Susan's. A special garden was in the front, two different wild rose bushes watered and ready to grow, bordered by more of the bedrock Henry had collected. The place looked like a new beginning. A home to make a life in. For Emma it couldn't have been any better.

Until she arrived the next morning to find a porch swing had been hung and the anchor door knocker was up, and well, she had to eat her words.


	3. The Bedroom

_A/N:_ Here's the next room. Let me know which one you want to see next! I've also finally figured out how the next chapter of A Bounty of Paint Pots so I should get that up by the end of the weekend. I hope the writing is okay, I feel like I do multi-chapters better so I'm not confident in this but it was fun to do! Thanks for all the support already! Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Painting with a hook was not easy. No matter how agile Killian was with the metal appendage no one was good at properly painting walls unless they had magic. At least that was his humble opinion. One he grumbled under his breath over and over as he ran the blasted roller across the wall.

The first room that was being tackled inside the Albatross Lane cottage was the bedroom- or rather bedrooms. Henry was down the hall painting his a light yellow with the help of Regina and Robin after Regina insisted her son would have a _properly_ painted room. Killian had been offended when she'd made the quip initially but now that he'd been painting, well Regina hadn't really been wrong in her assumptions.

Paint streaked Killian's jeans, light blue standing out bright against dark denim. Emma had let him pick the colour and the room since she'd gotten to choose the deck. The choice had been easy for Killian. And though he'd delivered it with a waggling eyebrow the reason wasn't to do with anything intimate- though that would be a nice perk. Emma wasn't sleeping. At the loft her baby brother would scream all hours of the night and with her parents there ready to keep her up for hours to smother her with love as soon as she started whimpering in her sleep it wasn't a conducive spot for rest. It was awkward too for Killian to try and sleep there with her. Even though David and Mary Margaret recognized Emma had asked for it and needed it, it didn't stave off their discomfort at the idea of a pirate sharing their baby girl's bed a few feet away. And Emma didn't sleep on the Jolly Roger as much as she argued she did. The alternating between spots wasn't helping either. Killian knew she needed a spot of her own. A constant that could be nurturing and relaxing to help her recover.

The bedroom was on the second floor of the place, in the front which allowed for a lovely view of the sea in the room's inset bay window. It was big enough for a queen sized bed and dresser set, along with a bookshelf and an arm chair. There was a tiny bathroom attached, a shower pushed into the corner with a sink and mirrored cabinet. It was carpeted but after a bit of an investigation Emma had discovered that there was a wooden floor underneath, thin oak boards that were worn down leaving an uneven staining. But in the space it worked, a level of well-loved destruction resembling the Jolly's deck. When the painting was done the carpet would be pulled up and they would have their charming wooden floor.

Killian painted a long streak of paint the colour of a cloudless morning up the wall, splattering half it on his clothing. He cursed, tossing the roller into the dish, causing even more splatter. And even more cursing.

"Good job we're replacing the carpet," Emma quipped as she painted a flawless strip on her wall, which she was nearly done with. A streak of paint marred her cheek and there were some spots on her clothing but they hadn't been accidents. Killian had seen her painting them on when she thought he wasn't looking then cursing brightly afterwards, failing to pull off a believable anger. It made him smile, her gestures to try and make him feel better about his painting failures. And the paint on her face was undeniably cute.

"This takes a bloody long time," Killian grumbled, trying to paint faster to catch up with her and ending up with even more splatter. No wonder David had suggested the painting crew. Whenever the Jolly needed painting Killian paid the workers at a dry dock and since that had been the only home he'd had for centuries it wasn't as if he had much experience with this kind of thing. But it had looked easy enough beforehand. Of course so had a lot of the things he'd done in the past.

"Be glad the walls were already white so we didn't have to prime," Emma answered, starting on the final wall. It was mid-afternoon, the work having started around ten. David had helped move over the furniture from Emma's room at the loft which was freshly whitewashed by Mary Margaret and sitting on the lawn drying. Emma had argued they could get their own but Mary Margaret liked the idea of being able to hand over some furniture to their daughter for her first place (even though it wasn't, just the first she'd helped with) to much to lose the argument. Emma had grumbled but Killian knew that secretly she loved it, just like when Mary Margaret made her bed fresh every day and always left lunch in the fridge for Emma before she left for work.

The bookshelf and chair, along with curtains, supplies for the bathroom, and several other odds and ends had been purchased at an infernal place called Ikea. Emma had driven him to one after Regina made sure he could leave the town without issue. They'd wandered the isles for hours, picking up things, ordering others for a later date, arguing about colours and the tackiness of items. Emma had been worried about price, her past showing through when she let slip a comment about having to buy groceries when they were comparing a cheap (and ugly) sofa to a nicer leather one.

In response Killian had taken out his phone and pulled up a picture he'd taken earlier that day in preparation for such an argument. The picture was of a chest in the hold of the Jolly, full to the brim with gold coins and pearl jewellery, the background of the shot showing at least two other similar chests. Emma had stared stunned, taking in the sheer amount of gold Killian had amassed. When she'd tried to get an explanation he'd just winked and said "Pirate, love, remember?" Money wasn't an issue for them. Killian had spent years collecting the treasure, often in violent altercations, and he was determined to change that fortune into something good. And if that meant a leather sofa then so be it.

"Come on, pirate. Don't let the bedroom beat you."

"I'll have you know, love, I win in the bedroom every time." Killian winked at Emma before closing the distance between them and kissing her hard. She responded immediately, giving back enough to take his breath away. When Killian broke for air she pushed him back with a laugh.

"That's because you've not had this bedroom battle with me yet," Emma replied saucily making Killian groan, heat coursing through him. Oh yes, when Emma recovered this bedroom redo was going to turn out to be an excellent idea.

"Bloody vixen," he mumbled back to which she gave him a smug smile.

"Keep painting or we'll never find out who wins that battle." Emma turned back to the wall and continued to cover it with paint. Killian watched for a bit, examining the way her muscles moved underneath her tank top. It was a wonder her shoulders weren't aching after all the weight and muscle she'd lost during her time as the dark one. Of course they might have been but she wouldn't have said anything. Emma had spent the past few weeks suffering in silence, Killian pulling the information out of her gently but firmly. He knew his Swan needed space but he also needed to know she was recovering.

Killian sighed and returned to painting. It would do no good to be caught studying her for signs her body was starting to give out. The goal was for the room to get done so they could begin sleeping there the next night. One more night at the loft then Emma could begin a normal routine. Even with the house being renovated, a stable room to sleep in was better than what she, what they, had right now.

The bedroom and bathroom were finally finished two hours later, Henry and his own painting crew having finished long before. Killian's own body ached so much he couldn't imagine how Emma was still standing. But she was which meant he wouldn't flop down now. Instead Killian used his hook to jab the far corner of the carpet, pulling upwards. Thankfully someone had just laid down the material instead of properly flooring it so it was fairly easy to pull up, Emma helping to roll it as Killian pulled it up.

Killian shouldered the carpet roll before Emma could attempt to help and marched out of the room and down the stairs. While he was leaving Emma threw open the large window to help the paint dry then followed him down the stairs. Henry had left with Regina and Robin as he was going to stay there until the house was ready for him to move in.

Killian waited for Emma on the deck next to the roll of carpet. When she came down Killian slipped his arm around her shoulders. She sagged against him, finally allowing herself to show just how exhausted she was.

"It will be done soon, love," he murmured, looking out towards the ocean.

"I hope so," Emma returned seriously. It was obvious she was talking about more than just the house.

Killian kept his arm around her as they moved to the yellow bug in the driveway. They would sleep at the loft again that night, something Emma recognized with a weary sigh when she pulled up. Killian barely held back his own sigh; she couldn't keep living like this. Emma needed her own place and she needed to _rest_ , to let someone else carry the burden of renovating a house, the sheriff duties, taking care of her family. It was all just too much for someone who'd just gone through what Emma had.

Emma went straight to bed when they entered the loft, leaving Killian in the living room with her parents. Mary Margaret stood by the counter, David rocking little Neal by the sofa. They both watched Emma go, worry creasing their faces-

"How was she today?" Mary Margaret asked, worrying at her lip.

"She won't stop," Killian admitted with a sigh. "I wish the bedroom would have been set up to stay there tonight- no offense your majesties," Killian added, blushing lightly.

"It's alright," Mary Margaret replied, laying her hand on Killian's arm, surprising him with the tenderness. "We understand Emma needs space. If we aren't sleeping with the baby here it must be impossible for her."

"Aye. And with the reno she's going to work herself to the bone. I wish she'd let me do it myself."

"But that's not Emma," David replied.

"Which is why we do it when she's asleep," Mary Margaret gasped, tone brightening as she started to plan. Killian watched the wheels turning, trying to decide if he should be afraid of what the tenacious queen was planning.

"What are you saying," David asked, joining them at the counter with a sleeping Neal.

"Tonight. We go finish the bedroom so she doesn't have to move furniture. And she doesn't have stuff ready for the next room so it will buy us a few days."

Killian nodded along with her words. Yes, that might work. They had been debating what room would come next, whether they would do the living room next or finish the top floor by painting the hall and revamping the bathroom that was home to some "1960s avocado porcelain" according to Emma. Killian didn't really care about the label, just that it was uglier than anything he'd ever seen in The Enchanted Forest and they didn't even have indoor plumbing.

"David, you stay here and look after Neal. I'm going to go with Killian and move stuff in."

"Shouldn't I go?" David asked, his face showing he was about to tread on tenuous grounds. "I mean you will be moving furniture around."

Mary Margaret scrunched up her face. "You know I'm very capable, Charming. Just as much as you," she hissed back, offended. "And I don't trust you and Killian to decorate."

"She has a point, mate," Killian agreed.

David sighed in defeat but waved them off. Arguing wouldn't bring any success. Mary Margaret grabbed the truck keys and led the way out of the loft.

Killian stumbled into the apartment with the queen after midnight. They'd set up the bedroom but Killian didn't feel right staying there the first night without Emma. And he worried about leaving her for a night, knowing the nightmares would soon arrive. Saying a quick thanks to Mary Margaret he made his way up the stairs and fell into bed next to Emma, not even bothering to take off his leather jacket.

"Killian?" Emma's voice called him out of sleep. He grumbled a bit as he opened his eyes and was greeted with the bright morning light. The angle of it told him it was still was early. He'd only slept for a few hours and the aching of his muscles clearly said it wasn't enough.

"Yes, love?" he asked, voice husky from sleep.

"Why are you fully dressed?" She was suspicious and rightly so. Killian returned the question with a small smile. It apparently didn't soothe her. "Where did you go last night?"

"Home."

"You went to the Jolly Roger?"

Killian pushed himself up. He'd hoped he'd get breakfast before showing Emma the room. "No, love. I mean our home."

"Why did you go back there?" Emma asked confused.

Killian took her hand and led her out of the room. "I'll show you."

Emma drove, continually questioning Killian's actions but he refused to give anything away. He wanted her to see it for herself. When they reached the cottage Killian took her hand again and led her up the carpeted stairs and to the master bedroom, letting Emma step in first.

The gasp was all he needed to hear to know the decorating was a success. Killian stepped in after her, examining the bedroom in the morning light. The bed was pushed up against the wall, made up with copious pillows, cornflower blue sheets and a navy, light blue and white patterned quilt. The quilt was from the Jolly Roger, the element from his old home fitting in seamlessly with his new home. The bookshelf was lined with the books taken from the Jolly, along with an old compass and the sextant Liam had given him all those years ago. A cream coloured padded arm chair was in the corner next to the books, the perfect little reading nook. The dresser had a vase of roses from the front yard on it. A few maps were framed and hung on the walls. The sheer curtains undulated in the breeze coming through the open window.

"Killian?" Emma gasped again, looking back at him. There were tears in her eyes which she was determinately fighting. "How?"

"Your mother is quite the decorator," he answered, leading her over to the bed. "I just allowed her to ransack the Jolly for items."

"You didn't mind?" Emma asked in wonder, sitting on the plush bed. Killian sat next to her.

"No, love. This is my home now. I've been served well by the Jolly for many years but she's now for pleasure only. Keeping everything on her would be a waste."

"It does look wonderful."

"Aye. This is a proper bedroom."

"But why?"

Killian got off the bed before he answered and bent before Emma. "Because you need a place of your own love," Killian started as he began unzipping her boots. "I see how ragged you are. Even if you won't tell me I know you're barely holding up." Killian removed one boot, setting it to the side while Emma watched him intently. "This bedroom is your sanctuary. Nothing can hurt you here. And I wanted you to be able to rest today, to continue to recover. Because you mean too much to me, Emma, to just sit back and allow you to run yourself to the ground." He took off the other boot and stood again.

She pulled him to her, crushing her lips against his. Killian let his hand tangle in her hair, holding her against him. When she pulls back she smiles up at him, tears falling freely now. "Thank you, Killian."

"Anything for you," he replied, helping her lay back against the pillows and pulling the blankets out from under her. "Now why don't we sleep for a bit? Since you woke me up so early." He tucked the sheets around her, pulling them up to her chin.

Emma laughed sheepishly, pulling Killian into bed with her. He quickly pulled off his coat and boots before fully rolling into bed. Emma tucked herself next to him, head on his chest. "Sleep, love," Killian whispered, kissing her forehead. Sleep claimed them both immediately. They didn't wake until the evening, the hours that had passed being the longest Emma had slept at once since her return.


	4. The Bathroom

_A/N:_ I'm so sorry for the delay in posts. I'm writing my thesis, busy with my final year of my undergrad, applying to grad school and trying to keep up with life in general. It's been a whirlwind and not always the good kind. Writing got pushed to the side and then I started doubting my writing skill which made me not want to write at all because I just criticized everything. Tonight though I can't sleep. So here's a new installment. I'll try to get a new chapter up for A Bounty Of Paint Pots up soon, or at least I'll start working on one. I hope there's still at least one person around who wants to read what I write. Let me know! Thanks for sticking around! Also, I haven't seen any of the new season because I am too busy to watch TV so this is all based of my own ideas as of last season.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time are property of ABC and the show's creators.

Emma sat on the edge of the bathtub watching Killian fight with the plumbing in front of her. Plumbing was something very new to a man who'd spent three centuries in the Enchanted Forest and something that wasn't exactly going well. They'd hired someone to do the bathtub Emma was currently sitting on but Killian insisted there was no reason he couldn't do the sink and toilet. If he was going to own his own house with running water then he best know how to fix it, at least that's how he saw it. Emma had tried to tell him about plumbers but that had been in one ear and out the other.

The removal of the avocado toilet and sink had ended with the two of them absolutely covered in water. A grumpy evening of washing clothing soaked with decades old toilet water had followed that. The toilet now sat at the end of the driveway, taunting them.

"Swan, why do we need three bathrooms in this house?" Killian grumbled, securing the new white ceramic sink to the wall with the provided brackets.

Emma laughed. "Food poisoning precautions," she answered, rolling her eyes. She wanted to help but he wouldn't let her. Killian had let Emma paint the room, a sandy beige with white trim, but frustratingly, he wouldn't let her do any of the heavy lifting.

Maybe it was because once the sleeping dam had been opened in the new bedroom it didn't really close. Emma had been exhausted before. But now, now she could barely keep her eyes open. It was as if now that she could sleep her body was demanding it, forcing her to try and make good for the several months as the Dark One she'd gone without ever sleeping. Emma was completely drained, felt sick, the power she'd used during the months she wasn't herself pulling everything from her. The sleep had forced her to feel that again, taken the mask off what she was hiding. And now she never wanted to get out of bed again.

Killian had been nothing but a gentleman about it. He brought her Granny's in bed, keeping her company when he wasn't off on errands or running interference from her family and the townspeople who still insisted on needing the saviour after everything that had happened. Emma had had to talk him down and steal his hook after several of the dwarfs had shown up on their doorstep early in the morning demanding help. Emma had a sneaking suspicion there was now a sign tacked to the mailbox at the end of the driveway threatening disembowelment should someone knock on the door. Killian had even cancelled all renos until Emma was back on her feet.

Five days into the sleeping marathon Emma had finally woken up and felt like she could keep her eyes open for more than five minutes at a time. She could actually feel her own magic simmering just beneath the surface of her skin. It had been like waking into a whole new nightmare. She was terrified of using her magic, of what had happened before when she had too much magic. Emma desperately squashed it away and spent the next hour convincing Killian that the renos needed to start up again.

It had taken a week to get new shower/tub duo installed, the other equipment purchased and the walls painted. But it had happened and here they were. And she still hadn't used her powers.

"You aren't funny, love."

"Of course I am," Emma answered. Killian looked over his shoulder and rolled his eyes at her. "You just forgot that since I've been asleep so long."

"Yes," Killian answered, putting on a fake pained voice. "I've been absolutely lost without your astounding wit, my love." Killian dodged the hair elastic Emma flicked at him then grabbed the wrench to start hooking up the piping.

Killian started twisting the nut into place, screwing the drain to the curved pipe below. The original piping within the walls hadn't been replaced and there was a bit of corosion around the top which made it hard for the nut to screw into place, especially with only one hand.

The more Killian twisted the more cross threaded the thing became. Halfway up it stopped screwing all together. Killian cursed and hit the piping with the wrench, the clang echoing through the bathroom. Emma cringed. She could have stepped in, offered her two hands to help keep it steady but that would have damaged Killian's ego. He'd been so good to Emma, so pleased with himself that he was able to take care of her, that she just couldn't bear the thought of making him feel any lesser than his lack of plumping knowledge already did.

But there was something she could do. Something she was absolutely terrified to do. A wiggle of her fingers and the bolt would loosen and if she did it when Killian's back was turned it would be as if she'd not done anything. Before Emma wouldn't have hesitated. Before Emma wouldn't have even considered stepping in and doing it manually. But Emma wasn't the Dark One any longer.

Killian threw the wrench down, the metal tool skidding across the fake marble laminate. At least it wasn't real stone and couldn't crack. Killian slumped down, head in his hand, eyeing his hook as he moved it slowly in front of him.

"I wanted to do this for you."

"Killian, it's a bathroom," Emma replied softly. "You've done enough for me. I don't need to see you put together a sink that doesn't leak for me to love you."

"And thank goodness for that," he bit back. They were silent for a few moments, Emma waiting to see what Killian would do. "Your father could do it."

 _Ah._ Measuring up to David, despite the strong bond of friendship they'd developed. It was still obvious that Killian saw himself as the villain when his confidence was shaken. To Killian, David was nothing less than the all capable Prince Charming. It didn't help either that David was her father and was constantly around during the renos. Or that he had two hands.

Emma sighed, desperate to make the desolation on Killian's face disappear. She'd caused enough of that lately. She had to do something. While Emma wasn't the Dark One any longer she was still Emma Swan. And Emma Swan had magic.

Another deep breath. There really was only one option. "Killian, give it another shot? Things get harder before they get easier."

Killian turned to her. She tried to give him her best reassuring smile, one she knew Killian couldn't resist, even if it was covering up the fear of what she was about to do.

"Alright love, just because for us that logic seems true." Killian grabbed the wrench and turned back to the sink.

When his back was to her she closed her eyes, concentrating on the current that had been flowing through her body for days. Fingers moving under their own accord the magic sparked. She opened her eyes when she heard Killian's shout of triumph.

The nut was moving properly now, nearly fully tightened. Emma's heart slowed as she watched Killian finish twisting up the pipes. She'd done it and nothing bad had happened. She hadn't hurt anyone. She hadn't blown anything up. She'd actually helped. Kind of like she was a plumbing saviour. _Huh._

"Done!" Killian cried, throwing his hand and hook up. In one swift motion he picked up Emma and swung her around in elation. Yes, magic could be good. Magic could help. Magic was actually making her feel more alive, more herself, even in just the few moments it had been since using her skill.

"Does it work?" Emma asked once he'd put her down and kissed her cheek.

Killian gave the sink an unsure look before turning the water to the pipe on and then turning the tap. Water spewed out of it. With a very satisfied smile Killian turned it off again and the water drained down into the pipes.

"All done."

"Perfect. Thank you, Killian," Emma replied. Before she could suggest potentially finding someone to help with the toilet Killian had disappeared into the hall and grabbed the porcelain fixture. This job seemed easy enough, at least according to David, who'd explained it all over the phone that morning, much to Killian's chagrin. Maybe Killian would be able to do it without a problem.

 _Drip._

Emma's eyes flashed to the sink just in time to see a second drip come from the faucet. Killian didn't seem to notice over the noise of the toilet being placed over the pipe and his grunts as he moved it. Of course it was dripping. Poor Killian. One hell of a captain? Oh yeah. Plumber? Hopefully never again. Before she even considered what she was doing Emma wiggled her fingers and the third drip, halfway to the basin from the tap vanished. A blink and the knobs screwed in a little tighter.

By the time Emma had turned back to Killian, he was securing the toilet to the floor. Part of her wanted to shout and get his attention, show him she'd found her magic again. The other part of her wanted the opposite, the fear that Killian would think that her use of magic meant the darkness was returning coursing through her. So she kept quiet, hands still on her lap as Killian finished and turned the water back on to the toilet. Emma would do anything to keep the fear from Killian's eyes, be it real or something she imagined would be there.

Killian stood, groaning, slightly damp jeans moving over his trim body in a way that never ceased to make Emma's stomach flutter. A press of the handle and the toilet flushed. Both Killian and Emma watched in silence, as if saying something would cause the water to spew from the pipes as if it were jet powered. A good two minutes passed before Killian turned, a smug smirk lifting up the side of his face.

Emma stood to join Killian, relieved that she wouldn't have to stop a flood with magic. There was no way she would be able to hide that from Killian. Killian slid his arm around her shoulders with a contented sigh. They walked from the now finished bathroom like that.

"How about you poof us some Granny's?" Killian murmured into her ear. Emma shot him a glance, trying to act confused but really just fighting to hide the terror at being caught. "I know you used magic back there to help. I'm proud of you." Killian kissed the side of Emma's head, his eyes showing nothing but pleasure. No fear. No disgust. No sign that he was going to go call Regina immediately and have her locked into some cell below the hospital to control her. Killian let go of her shoulders and walked into the bedroom.

"Really?" Emma forced out, stumbling behind him into the bedroom.

"Of course. I'm starving," Killian answered easily, pulling his dirty shirt off.

"But I used magic."

"And I used a wrench." Killian slid a new long sleeved t-shirt over his head and turned back to her. "Emma, love, magic is a part of you. A part of the light you. The you that's here. Of course you should use your magic. It may take time for you to be confident in it again, to know you aren't going to turn dark again but that's okay. If all you can do for the next month was what you just did that's great, I'm glad we have a working sink out of it. Or maybe you'll start using it more, like before. I'll be here either way. No matter what."

Emma took a few moments to process that. Killian wasn't scared. Maybe Emma could learn not to be scared too. It would take time but maybe she could work towards that. "Okay," Emma replied, her voice thick with emotion, relief and fear tangling together to form a gravelly tone. "But I think we're going to have to drive to Granny's for supper."

Killian grinned, reaching for her hand to lead her from the room. "You drive. I'll pay."

"I like that deal."

It turned out that Emma actually had to use her magic again relatively soon. Two days later, in the middle of the night, the toilet practically exploded, a pipe bursting under too much water pressure. Water coated the newly painted ceiling- something Emma was determined not to paint over again. While Killian cursed and tried to stem the flood of water from leaving the bathroom and ruining the hardwood floor of the hall Emma poofed the toilet out into the driveway next to the avocado one. Sure, she could have fixed the toilet with a flick of her wrist, just as she did the paint job, but Emma wasn't going to take any chances. She was calling David in the morning and he was putting a brand new one in, whether Killian liked it or not.


	5. The Deal

_A/N:_ I know I've been writing this as if Emma's the only Dark One- but that's because it was started before the Killian thing happened. So I've backtracked a bit in this one, in which Hook was also the Dark One and came out of it with Emma (no Underworld stuff). I haven't actually seen all of the new episodes but I know what happens. I've been writing paper after paper and I just wanted to play tonight. I hope this is suitable- it's nearly 3am here because I was doing school work until after 1 so I know it probably isn't my best but I hope you enjoy it. Let me know if you want me to continue on with more stories in this series following the set up in this chapter. I'm done at the end of this week for winter break so I'll hopefully be doing a lot more writing. I really want to finish A Bounty of Paint Pots over break so let me know if you want more of this one as well and I'll work on them both. Thanks.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

"Mom!" Henry's voice rang through the station. Emma glanced up from her paper work as Henry tore open the glass door to her office. Emma had just begun working again that morning, with the plan of a few hours a day to try and increase the sense of normalcy she'd been building. Everything was supposed to be quiet today. But, from the look on Henry's face, the family she'd left at nine that morning couldn't even hold it together until two.

"What is it?" If it was a monster she was going back to bed. That was a job for her father. Emma was still on paperwork duty.

"It's Killian." There was fear in his voice, cutting through her.

"What?" Emma was on her feet in a split second, rushing to her son's side. She'd left Killian to putter around the house, maybe sand down some of the cupboard doors while she was gone. Nothing had seemed wrong when she left. What had happened since? Killian had been doing so well, Emma almost forgot what he'd been through.

To be honest for a while she had. She'd been such a mess for so long. And Killian hadn't. He'd held it together. Held her together. They'd been building a home together, Killian doing whatever she needed. Emma had assumed Killian was better at coping; he did have several centuries on her to learn the skills. She'd assumed that if he needed her he would come. Killian had never been afraid of talking before. It appeared she'd been wrong.

"I went home to get that drone, you know the one I wanted to show Roland toady? I found him then. On the floor of the kitchen. There's something wrong. I don't know, maybe it's a panic attack."

"And you left him?" Emma asked, anger flaring in her worry. She grabbed her keys and started out of the office, Henry following.

"Not alone. Robin's there. I ran here after you didn't answer your phone." Emma's steps increased their pace, annoyed at herself for leaving it in the Bug then being too lazy to go get it earlier. Killian was probably mortified being left with Robin Hood. If he was even in a state to feel that. When Emma had broken down she certainly hadn't been.

"What state was he in?"

"Mom, you just need to see him." Tears were starting to gather in her son's brown eyes. Henry looked up to Killian, saw him as the father figure he never had. Henry had already watched two parents be torn up by past actions and memories of dark magic, she wouldn't let him go through that with a third.

Emma shoved the keys back in her pocket and grabbed Henry's shoulder. There was no time to get the Bug going and get back to the cottage. "Hold on Henry." She flicked her wrist and they disappeared into a white cloud of smoke.

Emma had barely landed on Albatross Lane before she was running up the steps of their little cottage and through the door Henry had left open in his haste to find Emma. The house was eerily quiet. Her panic increased.

"Killian!" she shouted, hurrying into the kitchen. There were sanding blocks on the floor amid paint dust so Killian had been working before whatever happened. Nothing was there that shouldn't have been there. What had triggered this?

"Back here, Emma," Robin's tense voice returned. Emma followed the sound off the kitchen into the un-renovated bathroom and laundry room.

Robin was standing by the door looking scared and helpless. She barely registered him though, eyes going directly to Killian. Her pirate sat on the edge of the old tub, head in his hands, body quivering. A wet dishtowel laid on the floor at Killian's sock feet, an attempt at calming him by Robin she imagined. Killian didn't even look up when she entered.

Emma turned back to Robin for a moment, shaking her head in the direction she'd come. Robin nodded, understanding she wanted privacy. He left quickly, shutting the door almost silently. Once he was gone Emma fell to her knees in front of her pirate.

"Killian?" No response. "Hey, Killian, it's me." She reached forward, laying a tentative hand on his shoulder. Killian jumped, letting out a horse cry before toppling back into the tub. _"Killian!"_

"Emma." The voice was barely a whisper. Broken.

At the acknowledgement Emma slipped into the tub, settling at the other end, waiting. She was quiet, watching, ready to do whatever Killian asked, just as he had done for her on The Jolly Roger. Emma wasn't good at this kind of thing, not like Killian was. But she had to try.

Slowly Killian righted himself, pulling his knees up to his chest. His blue eyes were rimmed red, face pale. The black linen shirt he wore was soaked to his chest with sweat, his hair in no better a state. Emma's heart broke and she grew mad at herself.

She'd been so selfish, needing Killian as she had when he obviously needed to heal himself. Her stupid, gallant pirate had put himself second, not telling her anything was wrong. She'd been through a similar situation as he had and yet hadn't thought to stop Killian and ask how he _really_ was managing. And now Killian was suffering for it.

"Swan?"

"Yeah, I'm here," she responded, reaching over the wall of the tub to grab the wet cloth. She held it up for Killian to see and after a subtle nod from him she inched forwards. Using soft strokes, Emma ran the cloth under Killian's eyes and down his cheeks, removing the tear tracks. Killian closed his eyes as Emma touched him, sighing a little against her palm.

When Killian's face was clean Emma put down the cloth and took his hand in hers. "What happened?"

At first Killian shrugged. Emma waited. Finally he sighed. "I don't know, love." Killian gave a little tug on her arm, pulling her towards him. Emma complied, settling her back against his chest. "Everything was fine this morning. I was going to get the cupboards ready to repaint for us to do later. And then as I was working I realized you were gone." Killian's voice broke. He wound his arms around Emma, holding her tight. "I was alone for the first time since-" Killian coughed through the lump in his throat and took a deep breath. "Since we found our way back from the dark. When you are here I can concentrate on you, even when you're asleep I can go to the bedroom and see you. You were so sick when we first got back. It gave me a purpose to know I could do for you what no one else could. Your parents are always here, or the lad, or one of the various townspeople who show up when I least want them to. But when I was alone in the quiet, it started reminding me of how alone I felt as the Dark One. It was worse being that then it was after Liam died because at least then I still had my crew. But with the mess of the dark one I pushed you away. I nearly lost you so many times. Even after the darkness was gone I barely got you back."

"And this morning I left," Emma stated, guilt threatening to swallow her. "I'm so sorry, Killian. I should never have assumed you were fine."

"I could have told you."

"You shouldn't have had to," Emma argued back, desperate for Killian to understand how sorry she was.

"You may be powerful, Swan, but you aren't a mind reader."

Emma let out a soft laugh at that, more relieved than anything that Killian was able to joke.

"It just got to be too much this morning," Killian continued, pulling Emma tighter against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat through the several layers of clothing, still erratic but slowly calming. "And I started having trouble breathing and my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. Everything went funny and I thought I was going to die."

"That's a panic attack."

"That's what the lad told me. I think," Killian added sheepishly, the memories of the past hour a little fuzzy.

"It's okay. I've gotten them before. A lot of people get them. You've been through a lot. It's only natural your body reacted this way. We can get through this." Emma pulled out of Killian's arms and turned so she could look him in the eye. "Will you make a deal with me?"

Killian nodded, pushing damp hair off his forehead with his hook.

"I'm a lot better now. Because of you. Will you be honest with me now and let me take care of you?"

A small smile pulled up Killian's stubbled cheek. "I guess that's fair," he replied.

"I guess so," Emma returned, trying to imitate his accent. She leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss against that smile. "I'm going to stay home for a while with you. I don't need to go back to work. You're not going to be alone until you're ready."

"You don't have-"

Emma cut him off immediately, pressing a finger against his soft lips. "Remember the deal? No being tough. It's my turn to care for you."

Killian let out a long suffering sigh before giving her a little smirk. "Fine."

"Good. Now let's get out of this tub, okay?" Killian stood then offered his hand and hook to help her up. Emma took them, standing. "You don't have to be brave anymore."

"I love you, lass," Killian replied, pulling her to his lips. The kiss was a bit more muted than usual but it still stoked something deep within her. It was soft and loving, more promise than outright passion. Emma dropped the hand that held his hook, instead bringing it up to twine her fingers through the soft black hair.

"Love you too," Emma answered when they finally broke apart.

When Emma dragged Killian out of the laundry room the house was quiet. She pulled him to one of the chairs at the breakfast nook and sat him down.

"Now I'm going to order Granny's for lunch and then finish sanding these cupboards okay?"

"I can help," Killian began to argue, moving to stand up from the wooden bench Emma had placed him on.

"No way. How many rooms was I not allowed to help on? It's my turn to help you get better and I will turn into a whiney princess to get my way." Emma stomped her foot in emphasis, fighting back a smile. She knew she was being ridiculous and very un-Swan like but she wanted to distract Killian.

Killian couldn't hide his own smile, teeth shining white in the midday sun that filtered through the small kitchen window. It was a relief to see it. "Well, who am I to argue with a princess?"

"You're her pirate."


	6. The Kitchen

_A/N:_ I really like the way this one turned out. As I'm not using the underworld stuff this chapter will tell you how Killian was saved (artistic liberties taken). I've left some openings for future chapters in this one so if you want to see more let me know. I'm also thinking of doing some Christmas ones- like the first Christmas in the house (and Killian's first Christmas ever), decorating a tree, etc. I think that could be a good background for working through some of the issues our couple has to grapple with now. Would you all want to read that? Thanks for all your support, views, reviews, favourites and follows. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects on Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Killian Jones was a man of action. And right now Emma Swan was insisting he did absolutely nothing. If he didn't love her so much he'd have pulled all his hair out by now.

But he couldn't blame her. Killian wasn't exactly himself. If he even knew who that was supposed to be anymore. Now that he'd let her in it was too hard to keep hiding, too hard to force himself to be the strong, resilient Killian Jones he'd been while Emma was coming to terms with her time as the dark one. Healing Emma no longer needed the devotion he had used to distract himself. Killian almost wished she wasn't better so he wouldn't have had the opportunity to fall apart. It was selfish but he hated those looks her parents gave him when they came over, a sickening mix of pity and impressed that he'd held it together for their daughter.

Killian wasn't eating very much and it was starting to show. He felt too sick to eat after what he'd done. He'd killed Merlin. He'd opened a portal to the Underworld. He'd nearly had Emma's family killed, the same people who brought him Granny's every day even though he barely touched the comfort food. Henry, the lad he wanted to be his own son, had watched him die. Yes, Emma had revived him with _half her bloody heart_ but the pain of watching him was something he should never have had to see.

And Emma. The woman who's heart now bet in his chest. He'd said the most awful things to her as the Dark One. Things that made him want to vomit now. The comments he'd made about her being an orphan, about being a distraction haunted every dream. A part of him couldn't believe that when he'd absorbed all the darkness she hadn't killed him once and for all because of it. Instead that brilliant, stubborn woman had pulled out his heart, stabbed it with Excalibur to free them from the darkness's hold and then replaced the organ with part of her own. She was no longer whole because of him and he would never forgive himself for that.

A thumping downstairs roused Killian from a restless sleep a week after the panic attack he'd had in the kitchen. Just as Killian had stopped for Emma while she tried to rest, Emma had stopped for him. It appeared though, that she'd gotten to work that morning, finally sick of a half-finished kitchen.

Killian slid out of bed, the clock blinking 10:30, far later than he ever woke when healthy. Socks slipping on the hardwood, Killian padded down the stairs, flannel pajama pants keeping him warm in the late November cold. A bit of snow had fallen through the night, visible through the front windows as he rounded the corner into the kitchen area.

Despite his quiet steps Emma looked up from where she was painting stain on the bottom row of cupboards. She stood immediately, setting the paint brush into the can before hurrying over.

"How did you sleep?" she asked, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

Killian shrugged when she pulled back. He'd slept better than he had been but-

"Still dreaming of me?" Emma asked. She'd been woken the first night after the panic attack to Killian talking in his sleep, replaying the scene of when he'd snapped about being disappointed in her, about not loving her any longer. They'd both cried after Emma had shaken him awake, holding each other until the sun rose. The dreams changed nightly now, Emma always waking up when he started to toss or talk, pulling him against her chest. They no longer cried. Maybe because they just couldn't anymore.

"Did I talk?" Killian asked as way of answering.

She shook her head. "Not this time. Care to tell me what it was about?"

"The very end."

Emma pursed her lips, paling a bit. She still felt extreme guilt for what she'd done, and maybe she always would. Just like he would probably always feel terrible for his own actions, especially those towards his golden Swan. Maybe accepting that was going to be part of the recovery process.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, eyes glassing over with unshed tears.

"I forced your hand, love," Killian answered. "You were the one who decided saved me." Killian's hand unconsciously raised to his chest, the beat of his- of her- heart steady under his fingers. "You gave up your bloody heart to save me. After everything I did." Killian's voice broke at the end and Emma lunged forward, throwing her arms tight around him.

"Only half," she whispered in his ear.

Despite himself a laugh pushed out of his chest. She was an absurd and amazing woman. After all the shit in her life she was still giving up so much.

"Still works just fine, yeah?"

After he didn't answer right away Emma pulled back, leaning against his arms. Her eyes drifted towards his neck, scanning the scar that stood out from the creamy flesh, a daily reminder of what she'd been forced to do. Just as every heartbeat reminded him of her sacrifice, every glance in his direction reminded Emma of her own actions, how she'd not been able to let him go and therefore forced him to go through what he had. They both carried so much guilt. Killian had to force himself not to forget that.

"Yes, love," he answered after a long moment. "It's still beating away."

Emma leaned forward and kissed the spot where his heartbeat could be felt. Killian laughed again. He didn't know how Emma could keep doing this, keep making him feel better. A small part of him was whispering that he'd done the same for her, that this was what love was. That must have been true because Killian had never loved anyone more than he did Emma Swan.

"Can I get you something to eat?" Emma asked when she finally pulled away. Usually he would say no, never hungry anymore and instead opting for coffee to keep himself awake and away from the nightmares that haunted even his naps, but standing in the half finished kitchen with Emma, seeing that she felt the same way he did, he actually started to feel hungry.

"Cereal?" Best start small.

"Sure," Emma answered smiling, leading Killian to the breakfast nook. She sat him down before moving to the cupboard. "Henry's or the good-for-you stuff?"

Killian raised an eyebrow, the answer obvious. Emma gave him a long look before grinning. The movement was so him and it wasn't until he did it that he realized it had been a week since he'd done the familiar movement.

"Frosted flakes it is then." Emma sat a full bowl down in front of him.

Emma turned back to her work while he ate, continuing to paint the cupboards. Killian watched her move, high ponytail swaying as she crawled around on her knees, finishing the cupboards.

"What time did you get up this morning, love?" Killian asked, swallowing the sickeningly sweet cereal.

"Six?" Emma answered, brushing long strokes up the wood. "I know I was waiting until you felt better but I'm sorry. I'm starting to lose patience at having to dig through a cardboard box every time I want something to eat on."

"Well, you could just eat straight out of the takeout containers."

Emma turned around just long enough to roll her eyes at him. "The plates help keep up the illusion."

"Can I let you in on a little secret? You're not fooling anyone." Killian joked around a mouthful.

"I promise I'll start cooking more once I have my kitchen back." They both knew that was a lie but Killian let it stand. Emma was trying her best.

Killian actually finished the entire bowl of Frosted Flakes before eating a banana and drinking a cup of hot cocoa with cinnamon. His stomach protested, having shrunk after eating little more than a slice of toast and a few onion rings each day, but he felt content. Killian pushed himself back against the wall and watched Emma work.

Halfway through the morning she started humming, hips swaying as she painted the top level of cupboards. The sun glinted off her hair, giving her a crown of light. Killian had to smile. He loved this woman so much. Her biggest fear had been losing those she loved, losing him, and yet she'd killed him to save everyone. And then literally gave up her own heart to bring him back. Even after everything, she'd given him the opportunity to die a hero, to officially be what he'd fought so hard to return to. She was so strong. She'd give up anything for the people she loved.

Watching her, Killian started to feel that focus he'd lost coming back. He felt so lucky to be loved by Emma Swan. A navy lieutenant, a reformed villain, a lost boy was loved by a princess, a saviour, a lost girl. The pain wasn't gone, still beating strong with every thump of his new heart but the goals he'd had started growing stronger again.

Killian wanted to build a home with Emma Swan. This home. He wanted a family with her. Henry, Mary Margaret, David, Emma. He wanted a future. One that involved the ring on a chain that sat on the table upstairs, Emma having given it back to him after the panic attack to remind him of the strength he had.

In the early afternoon, after sharing the lunch of tomato soup and grilled cheese Mary Margaret had dropped by with, Emma started securing the cupboard doors back on, having dried the varnish with a flick of her wrist when she thought Killian wasn't looking. She was nervous about doing magic now that Killian was recovering, cognisant of the fact that Killian had lost all his magic after she killed him, not that it had been a gift in the first place. While he didn't particularly mind not having magic anymore, the absence still made itself felt sometimes so he appreciated the gesture.

Killian leaned against the wall, chewing on his lip. Emma was struggling to hold the doors in place and screw them to the frames at the same time. She'd explicitly forbade him from helping until he was recovered but today had been a good day for him and he wanted to help. Killian hadn't moved on from everything in his past by laying around. While he appreciated Emma's gesture, knowing he'd done the same for her, Killian was truly a man of action. Today in being out of bed he'd worked through some issues, started to see that Emma wasn't angry about the thing's he'd done, the thing's she'd done for him. That had made a world of difference already.

Killian crossed the floor and squatted down next to her. "Need a hand?" Before Emma answered he grabbed the door and held it in place. "You can have a hook too if you need it," he joked after she didn't immediately start working again. "I'm okay, Swan. Really."

She huffed at him, pretending to be exasperated, before going back to work. They worked together, the team they'd always been, securing all the doors back in place and then filling the cupboards. Emma told him about Henry who'd been staying at Regina's to give them space, chatted about the idea of getting a pet for him as they worked. It was almost normal.

It was dark by the time they finished, both standing in the kitchen. Killian snaked his arm around Emma's waist and she leaned against him, head on his shoulder. The room looked refreshed. Only the cupboards had been redone, having decided to keep the rustic cottage charm of the paint and butcher block counter top. They didn't replace the appliances either, since neither of them were much good at cooking despite Emma's earlier statement about cooking more. The two of them figured it would be better to save the money to put elsewhere. Killian was beginning to think that perhaps it could go into fixing up the backyard if they got a dog.

"Looks good," Emma said after a while of standing there against Killian.

"It certainly does," he answered. Emma looked up and caught him looking straight at her instead of the newly varnished wooden doors.

"I love you," she whispered. "I'm so glad you're here with me. I wouldn't be able to do any of this without you." Killian knew she was talking about more than just the reno. She was talking about recovery. About moving on. About life.

"My love, my very heart, _I_ wouldn't be here without you- and I don't just mean alive. I owe you everything. I love you too."

Emma turned to him, capturing his lips in a kiss. Killian picked her up and move her to the cupboard, setting her down, all without breaking contact. Emma threaded her fingers through his tangled hair and he moaned against her lips. It had been a week since they'd kissed like that, Emma scared to push and Killian overwhelmed by the guilt that had surfaced with the force of a tsunami.

The thump of the front door closing broke them apart, both breathing heavily. Henry came through the door, arms loaded with Tupperware containers. He stopped when he saw them together, skin flushed and lips swollen, and made a face.

"Ugh, gross," he groaned. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better Killian but get a room." Emma let her head fall against Killian's chest, hiding her blush.

"Technically I am in a room," Killian answered, eyebrow climbing, pretending to miss the reference.

"You know what I mean," Henry replied with a roll of his eyes. He dropped the containers full of stew and rolls on the counter. "Mom sent food. She says you're eating too much at Granny's." Henry looked between the couple again, eyes missing nothing and not being too thrilled with having to see it. "Mom's waiting for me outside, so I'm uh, gonna go." Without another word he turned and hurried from the house.

Emma let out an exasperated sigh. "Are we ever going to stop scarring him?"

"To be fair, this is probably not a scar in comparison to everything else," Killian answered, using humour to stop from getting choked up at the idea he had the opportunity to do such things with Henry. Emma considered him a member of her family, no matter what had happened. She allowed him into that parental role and didn't seem to have any regrets.

"Not helping," she answered, punching his shoulder. Emma pushed him away good-naturedly, sliding off the counter. "Come on Captain, let's remind our stomachs that people other than Granny can cook." Still riding the high of having the guilt lessened and being reminded of Emma's love for him, Killian ate two full servings before crawling into bed with Emma and immediately falling into a calm sleep.


	7. The Tree

_A/N:_ This one's a large one! It's the first of my holiday chapters! I hope you like it. I wasn't sure I was actually going to be able to finish it. I'm having a really bad OCD flare up so I'm having trouble writing without getting pulled into my compulsions for hours. Because of that it's only been edited once so I hope it still meets your standards. I'm blown away by the reception this story has gotten in the last little while so thank you all for the follows, favourites, views and reviews! You are all amazing! I'm really looking forward to the next chapter, I've been planning it for a while! It's from Killian's perspective with lots of Captain Cobra so Henry can work through everything that's gone on and a Christmas present I'm sure you'll all enjoy. Any guesses as to what the gift is? There's been hints in previous chapters as well as this one. The chapter should be coming really soon. Anyways, thanks so much for all the support! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

The front door thumped open and shut in quick succession. "Swan?" Killian called, his lilt echoing through the silent house.

"In here," Emma yelled back, lounging in her seat on the soft beige couch of the living room. She quickly changed the channel on the new TV. Emma had been enjoying the quiet, watching a marathon of _Say Yes to the Dress_ , a guilty pleasure Killian or her mother were never to know about.

She adjusted the cream knitted blanket over her knees, a housewarming gift from Granny. Most of the furniture and accessories in the room were a beige-y cream because the walls were a deep red, the colour of past Killian's vest. Neither of them had intended for that. They had just wanted something cozy and warm, different to the rest of the light and breezy coloured house. Perhaps it was that they both remembered the trip to the past fondly and had subconsciously wanted to remember. Perhaps it was that Emma had always had an affinity for red and Killian had enjoyed the way the red colour looked surrounding Emma. They certainly spent enough time in the room that Killian may have had that ulterior motive. Whatever it was, Emma enjoyed the homey feeling of the room.

A few more thudding noises filtered in from the hallway as Killian toed off his heavy winter boots and hung his leather jacket on the hook by the door. Emma waited patiently for him to come find her, curious as to what would have him yelling.

Things had been getting better. It had taken them three weeks but now Killian was slowly finding himself able to be parted from Emma without panicking. Both of them still felt anxiety about it, residual fear that the darkness would come back and claim the other when they couldn't be defended. Killian's trips away from Emma were always with someone else, still finding it hard to be alone and left to his own thoughts. David tried to get Killian to do things with him, sometimes also with Robin or Henry, as much as possible, bless him. Most of the time Killian agreed. Other times he spent the day glued to Emma's side, needing to touch, to see, to hear her. But, despite the bad days, as Emma continually repeated to herself, things were getting better.

Today Killian had gone out with David to winterize The Jolly Roger. David had hired Robin on as another Deputy since Emma was still off to look after Killian and heal herself. It allowed David a few days off a week, days he spent with his _mate_. Their relationship, while it surprised Emma to no end, still made her smile.

Killian came up the hallway and into the living room, snow scattered over his dark hair. His nose was red from the cold. He wore a dark green waffle knit Henley, unbuttoned as usual, and a forest green plaid flannel button up over top. Emma had insisted he started dressing warmer now that December and winter had found Storybrooke.

"Why don't we have a Christmas tree?" Killian asked without preamble, coming to stand in front of Emma.

"What?" Well that was certainly unexpected. How did Killian even know what a Christmas tree was?

"The parking lot downtown has been filled with conifers. I asked David why when we drove by. Dave said it was a tradition, that people get them for the holiday to decorate and put presents under them. He also said that the princess invited us to her house tonight to decorate their tree but you said we're busy which I know we are not. So why don't we have one?"

Emma looked down at her lap, caught. "Technically it can't be a tradition if this is the first year for it."

 _"Emma,"_ Killian said, softer, realizing there was something more there. He sat beside her, pulling the blanket up over his own knees. "Why aren't we following this tradition? Your parents really want you to help them decorate."

"That's Neal's tree. Not mine." Emma's voice was barely above a whisper yet the words tore through her.

She'd never had a tree. Not once. Most families gave her back to the group home right before Christmas so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about not including her in their traditions. The few families that kept her around decorated with their own families while she was away. She'd come home from school and a tree would be already there, none of the ornaments meaning anything to her, not even being allowed to touch them most of the time. She hadn't even been in Ingrid's home, the one place she might have had Christmas, during December. After she'd run from the system she and Neal had never been in one place long enough to have a tree and they certainly didn't have one in Arizona. Prison had taken any leftover Christmas magic from her making December in Boston cold and lonely and then real magic had arrived and Christmas was once more pushed away. Sure she had false memories of New York Christmases but they weren't real. She couldn't even think about that time in her life because they were a cruel mockery about what she could have had had she had a different beginning, had she kept Henry and not run from everything for the first thirty years of her life.

It didn't feel right to encroach on Neal's first tree, to be that unwanted kid whose real parents were finally trying to make it up to her. Even though her brother was only young, too young to remember, she wouldn't ruin this first year of Christmas with her tense awkwardness. Mary Margaret had wanted a baby, a real child to raise. She'd made that much clear in Neverland. Emma wouldn't overstep her welcome by taking away the special memories of her parent's new child.

"It's your family's tree," Killian insisted, grasping her hand. "Which means it's yours too."

"No. I'm not some child anymore. My Christmas was a day I'd get dessert, a candy cane in a group home because they were cheap and allowed the people to pretend they actually cared. My Christmas was never trees and baubles. That's Neal's Christmas." Emma took a deep breath. "I just can't. I can't see Neal get everything I ever dreamed off." It hurt to even think about.

Killian slipped an arm around Emma's shoulders. "Okay, Swan. We don't have to go to your parents tonight."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, love. You've been through so much. It's understandable. I think sometimes your parents forget all you've been through. That undying hope and positivity they're known for seems to make them think that you can just move on with no problem."

"They don't know a lot," Emma replied, still staring at her hands. "It's why I have to lie." Killian leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"Thank you for telling me then, love."

Emma shrugged. "You understand."

"Aye, I do," Killian replied. "But, I do have a question?"

Finally Emma turned to him, curious. "What?"

"Why don't we have a tree? It wouldn't be taking away from anything. Henry's already experienced years of Christmas during the curse so this isn't a new thing. But, I've never even experienced Christmas. I think I'd like to. It could be _our_ new tradition." Killian scratched behind his ear and Emma realized just how much Killian wanted to be included in the holiday, how much that little abandoned boy wanted to be included in something so family and happiness centered. And maybe that little lost girl inside Emma wanted to be too. "But only if you feel comfortable," he added quickly.

Emma sighed. She really couldn't keep Christmas from Killian. Killian had been so good to her and this last year had been so hard on both of them that they really should celebrate. Christmas was a holiday of light and after so long in darkness it would do them well to be reminded of the pure joy this world was actually capable of. Deep down, even though opening herself up to Christmas terrified her, Emma wanted to experience it. Emma wanted to have some sort of holiday experience that wasn't sitting in her small apartment alone or being put into a social worker's van on Christmas Eve. But even though she was starting to accept that she wanted this, it didn't mean that nothing was standing in her way.

"I don't know how to decorate," Emma admitted quietly after a long moment. "And I have nothing to decorate with."

Killian brightened instantly. "I know someone who would. Grab your coat, Swan. I'm going to go call Henry."

"Wait, what?" Emma asked, stunned.

"We're going to go get a tree and some of those shiny balls that seem to be the decoration of choice in this realm. David says they sell out fast. Now hurry." Killian had turned into a five year old before her eyes. This man who had been battling memories of his time as the Dark One for the last few weeks was actually happy.

Emma sat silent on the sofa for a few more long moments until Killian huffed a long _Swannnnn_ at her. Shaking her head in sheer disbelief she pushed herself up and moved to grab her coat from the hall. She could hear Killian speaking rapidly to her son on the phone. In a few moments Killian joined her by the door.

"Alright, Swan, all set. Henry's going to meet us at the tree lot. He says you can just poof it home so don't worry about fitting it into the Bug. He said he'd come with us to get the ornaments too afterwards."

Emma just nodded along. She couldn't believe she'd nearly said no tree. This was the excited Killian she'd only seen on a few occasions but it was one of her favourite versions of the pirate. Killian took Emma's hand and led her out of the house.

When they reached the bug Killian had finally settled again and turned to her. "Are you sure you're okay with this, Swan? It's your house too. I don't want to overwhelm you."

"I'm fine," Emma said with a smile. "I think it's time I start creating happier memories."

"I'm glad I can help with that," Killian answered.

"Me too." Killian gave Emma a quick kiss on the lips, smiling into the gesture.

On the way to the tree lot Killian had Emma explain Christmas to him, answer what David hadn't. He'd been cautious, not wanting to upset her but as she reached the lot Emma actually found herself enjoying talking about the holiday and planning all the things they were going to do.

Henry was waiting in the parking lot when they arrived. He ran over to them, just as excited as Killian. Seeing Henry Emma realized that this was also her son's first real Christmas with her. She was kicking herself for underestimating how excited everyone was. She almost didn't allow any of this because of her own fear. Hadn't she already learned that running only caused problems, prevented a full life? Taking a deep breath to push away the self-hate she got out of the car.

"Hey, Mom!" Henry greeted immediately. "I've already had a look around and found some options." Of course Henry did. He'd found their house, why wouldn't he find the first tree as well?

Killian glanced at Emma, waiting for her approval. Emma gave him a small smile. "Lead the way then, lad," Killian said, waving his hook towards the grouping of trees being looked at by the citizens of Storybrooke.

Giving them a grin Henry made a beeline for the middle of the lot. When he'd reached the tree he'd previously picked out he stopped, bouncing on his toes a bit. The tree was average height but well rounded, small enough that it wouldn't be overwhelming to find an adequate amount of decorations for but large enough that it was substantial. There were no major bare spots that Emma could see.

"If this is the one you like, then I have no problem with it," Emma told her son as Killian moved to examine the tree. Henry shot Emma an amused look as Killian searched the pine for any imperfections that would stop it from being the perfect tree. When he'd done two laps around the tree, one each way, he stopped in front of Henry.

"I think you've picked a winner, lad."

Henry's face split into an even larger grin. "Little John's the one who's running the lot today."

"Well," Emma said pulling out her wallet. "I guess I need to go find him then." Five minutes later Emma had paid for the tree and, still slightly shocked that she'd decided to put up a tree in the first place, poofed it to the cottage lawn to be carried inside later.

As the joy of Christmas had swept the entire town, some of the fairies had opened a Christmas store to sell decorations in the building where the Snow Queen's ice cream shop used to be. Henry chattered on as they drove to the store, telling them that some of the decorations had been ordered in, some made by Marco, while others, like stockings, were knitted by Granny. It was nice to see the town put down the swords and put out the fire balls that had characterized the past few years in favour of tinsel and lights.

Henry led the way into the store and immediately vanished into the stands in search of the perfect ornaments. Killian stayed at Emma's side, giving her hand a squeeze. The store was overwhelming to say the least. Emma had thought the store was small before but the fairies had opened it up and filled it to the brim with colour and glitter. Carols played over the speaker system and some sort of orange and cinnamon candle burned further in the store, spreading the wonderful scent right to the doorway.

"So what do we need?" Killian asked, a bit overwhelmed himself. Henry had given them the low-down but it seemed to be a bit too much for Killian to keep track of.

"Lights, an angel for the top, tree skirt, ribbon, ornaments and a tree stand," Emma replied, recounting what Henry had said.

"But which ones?" Killian looked around the store, wonder in his eyes.

"Whatever ones you want," Emma answered warmly. She could imagine how much young Killian would have enjoyed Christmas, before he'd been hurt and abandoned, hardened and darkened. Killian had finally found a family several centuries later and that childish awe seemed to be returning now that he was safe and loved and wanted. Emma wondered if that same expression could be seen in her own eyes as she examined all the different kinds of lights. She tried to catch her reflection in a few shiny glass ornaments but her image was too distorted to tell.

A whole hour later they had a cart full of supplies. Occasionally Killian had been adamant, choosing strange ornaments like bright yellow glittery balls because they looked like stars, or a few small sail boat ornaments that he had reverently held between his fingers. Other times Killian had loudly exclaimed about the strangeness of tinsel, scowling as the glitter pulled away from some of the ornaments and coated his hook. Emma had gotten a kick out of that. Henry had picked out his own sets of ornaments, pop culture themed ones as well as a joke Captain Hook figuring from the gag gift stand which included ornaments of all the Disney characters. Killian had pretended to be irritated but Emma could see it in his eyes how pleased and touched he was that Henry had thought about him in some way.

Together they loaded up the bug with all their ornaments and went back to Albatross Lane. As they drove to the house Emma could feel her excitement growing. It seemed that doing this with her family, her true love and her son, had shown her the good side of the holiday. She was actually looking forward to making hot chocolate, finding a Spotify playlist of carols and decorating the tree.

Once they arrived at the cottage Emma left Henry and Killian to figure out how to get the tree inside and into the stand and went to make three mugs of hot cocoa with cinnamon. She quickly found a playlist of classic carols, the timeless ones that didn't belong to a certain generation and thus didn't belong solely to memories of her childhood and set it to play. By the time Emma had finished Killian and Henry had wrestled the tree into the living room after much cursing and a close call with the window by the door and stuck it in the red and green metal tree stand.

Stringing lights turned out to be a difficult job for Killian with only one hand, his hook not dexterous enough to wrap the cords around the branches so Emma and Henry put up the strands of multi-coloured LEDs. While they did that Killian was tasked with pulling plastic wrapping off the candy cane stripped ribbon Emma had picked out. It seemed classic to Emma and she thought it would go well with their red walls. It was easy to tell which decorations she'd picked out- they were the traditional ones she'd seen growing up, the kinds that would be in department store windows. Killian and Henry's ornaments were all over the place.

With the lights and ribbon up they all set to work putting up the ornaments. "Does it matter where I put them?" Killian asked, staring at the lit tree, one of the garish yellow balls hanging from his fingers.

"No, I don't think so," Emma answered, watching Henry put up a Yoda ornament. "Wherever feels right." Killian seemed satisfied with the answer and hung the yellow glitter ornament towards the top of the tree.

Emma didn't hang any of her selected ornaments for a long time. Instead she stood back, watching Henry and Killian hang theirs, marvelling at the fact that she could do this now. It was so surreal. As much as Emma pretended to be strong, she still fell back into the insecure, hurt and scared girl she used to be. Christmas had brought that back in full force.

But everything about this house was supposed to be about healing. Every room meant something, held a memory. The bedroom had been the first room done for the couple, the gift Killian had finished with her mother through the night so she could finally have a peaceful place to sleep. The upstairs bathroom had been the room she had found the courage to get her magic back whereas the downstairs bathroom had been the place where Emma had realized Killian's sheer strength to carry on, the breadth of his love to help her heal without ever asking for something for himself in return. And now this living room was the place of Emma and Killian's first family Christmas tree.

Killian's arm wrapping around her waist shook her from her thoughts. "Are you alright, love?" he asked, voice against her ear. "We've put our ornaments up but you haven't hung one." Emma glanced towards the tree and sure enough Henry's Star Wars figurines, gingerbread men and bright candy shaped ornaments hung on the tree. Mixed into them were Killian's yellow, orange and white glitter balls, looking as if the sun and stars were hanging among the branches. Emma's boxes still sat untouched on the couch.

"Will you all help me?" she asked after a few moments. It seemed like such a major undertaking for her to do on her own.

"Of course," Killian answered, his voice conveying the honour he felt that Emma wanted their help to hang her first ornaments up. But they were her family. They were the reason she had a tree. She couldn't not do it with them.

Henry opened the box that held Emma's red glass ornaments. Killian grabbed one and handed it to Emma. Henry handed Killian one before taking a third for himself.

"Go on, Swan," Killian murmured to her. "We're right here with you."

Holding the ornament's ribbon in slightly shaking fingers Emma moved towards her tree. It didn't escape her that she'd dreamed of this as a child. It had taken her thirty years but she was finally decorating a Christmas tree with the family that had found and fought for her. The family who would never leave her.

Emma reached out and placed the ornament on a strong branch, Killian and Henry hanging their own after her. Once Emma had hung her ornament it was as if the burden of the holiday had fully lifted and she found herself actually singing along to the carols playing in the background as she put up the rest of her ornaments with her son and her pirate.

When the tree had finally been finished Henry flicked the overhead lights off. The multi-coloured lights glowed softly, the glittery ornaments sending the lights off in rainbows against the wall and furniture. They'd bought too many ornaments, the tree barely visible underneath. It definitely didn't look like the tree Mary Margaret had put up, having sent Emma a picture earlier with the message _Wish you were here_. Where Mary Margaret's was classic, looking like it belonged to a home décor magazine photoshoot, Emma's was chaotic and slightly garish. But it had specifically been designed by two people who had never experienced decorating a tree before and one very excited tween. It was perfectly un-perfect and Emma wouldn't have had it any other way.


	8. Operation Ornament

_A/N:_ Here's a really long one. I hope it's not too choppy- had a lot to cover in a single chapter. I've been blown away by the response this story has been getting lately! It's all so amazing so I hope this lives up to expectations! I'm not sure when I'll be back- I'm having a really shitty time lately with my mental health. But I do know I want to be back before the end of the month with a chapter about a New Years party in the house. We'll see what happens. Thanks so much for all the favourites and follows, views and reviews! They've been so very inspiring and keep me writing! Let me know what you think of this one! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Killian was waiting for Henry when he came down from his bedroom looking for breakfast. It wasn't hard to get downstairs before the boy; Henry was starting to get the sleeping curse that seemed to hit all teenagers and Killian had recently returned to his early riser routine. Before Henry could go to the cupboard Killian pushed a bowl of Frosted Flakes across the counter to him. Henry raised a brow in a movement that was so Killian, so _him_ , that it stole his breath for a moment. It was that action that told Killian that he had made the right decision.

"What's going on?" Henry asked, immediately suspicious. Killian couldn't blame him, he hadn't really been a good parental figure lately for the boy. Emma had really picked up the slack, returning to her mothering role now that she was feeling better. But that didn't mean Henry was feeling back to normal. He eyed the kitchen surrounding them, looking for clues. "Where's Mom?"

"She's out on a run, but don't worry. There's nothing wrong," Killian placated, knowing where Henry's thoughts would go.

Henry had been through so much in his short life. Despite having his grandparents' undying optimism and the heart of the Truest Believer, the constant onslaught of villains and traumatic events had taken its toll on Henry. The lad had been kidnapped and taken to the boy demon of Neverland, lost his memories and father, had seen one mother constantly struggle with her villainous past while watching his other mother murder another villain who had kidnapped him then turn into the Dark One to protect everyone and pull the heart out of his first girlfriend. Finally, he'd watched his mother kill his beloved father figure and then shove half her heart into his chest to revive him. It was a life that even Dr. Phil couldn't sort out.

Emma had been trying to get Henry to return to Archie and work through everything. Henry hadn't agreed yet and Killian had stayed out of the conversations. It was his opinion that Henry just needed time with the people who had almost been lost to him. When he'd lost Liam and Milah, Killian had only ever wanted a little longer with his loved ones. Henry would feel more secure with love and time.

"Oh, sorry," Henry replied grabbing the spoon Killian handed him and taking a mouthful. "So what's up?" he asked once he'd swallowed.

Now it was Killian's turn to get nervous. He'd been sitting down at the breakfast nook for a few hours waiting, trying to hold himself back from going and waking Henry up or taking off to the Jolly to blow off some steam by recorking the entire deck or something equally as ridiculous. What he was going to do that day might very well change all their lives soon. Killian took a deep breath. _Easy question first._ "Well, lad, I was wondering if you'd come Christmas shopping with me? I need to get your mother something."

Henry's face lit up at the prospect. "Really? You want my help?"

"Of course. No one else could help me with this," Killian answered honestly.

"When do we leave?"

"As soon as you're done." Killian laughed when Henry started to shovel the cereal into his mouth. It was touching to see Henry so excited to spend time with him. They hadn't been together much since Emma had been forced to kill him. With the house renovation Henry had been staying with Regina and Robin to keep out of the way and then when Killian had been recovering he hadn't wanted to intrude. He'd returned the night they put the tree up. It was nice having him in the home, his belongings spread around to remind Killian that life went on, that he had his family around him.

"Awesome, I'll go get dressed." Henry picked up the bowl and took it upstairs with him. Killian shook his head, disbelief filling him that Henry was so eager to spend time with an old pirate. Strong relief flowed through him as well that the relationship they'd been building before his period as the Dark One hadn't been damaged beyond repair. At times, before everything had once again gone to shit, Killian had imagined that it was possible for Henry to be his own son. Maybe now they could return to that.

When Henry pounded back down the stairs Killian stood and went to collect his leather coat. He sent a quick text to Emma, letting her know he would be out with the lad. Emma would worry if she came home and Killian was gone. She, like Henry had that morning, still expected the worst.

"Ready, lad?"

Henry nodded and move to the door. Killian followed, locking the house behind him. They walked towards downtown, both fairly silent. Killian wasn't sure how to start the conversation he needed to have with the lad and Henry, despite his earlier excitement still seemed a bit tired. Maybe the boy wasn't sleeping well? Killian knew what that was like.

Eventually Henry turned to Killian. "So, what were you thinking about for Mom?"

Killian scratched behind his ear, nerves increasing tenfold. "I already know what I'm getting her."

"Oh," Henry's face fell. His forehead furrowed in confusion. "Why did you need me then?"

Killian sighed then took Henry's elbow and guided him over to a bench. He looked around to make sure they wouldn't be overheard. Storybrooke was terrible with secrets when it came to Emma so if someone heard what he was about to say, everything would be ruined.

Killian rubbed his hand over his face. _Time for the hard question._ "I needed you because I have to ask you a question." Henry shot him an inquisitive look, tendrils of hope weaving through it, as if he knew what was coming. Though, knowing Henry he probably did. "I love your mother very much, lad. More than anything. More than my ship and the stars that guide her, more than my own heart." Killian shot Henry a rueful smile at that. "She's pulled me back from a darkness so bleak it was as if I existed in a void, only my need for revenge to keep me warm at night. Emma taught me that I could be a good man again, a hero," Killian barked out with a harsh and disbelieving laugh. "I could never have seen Emma Swan coming, but I think I fell in love with her the very moment I saw her. And by sheer dumb luck on my part she loves me too. We are of one heart. I want us to now be of one name. So I'm asking you Henry, may I have your blessing to marry your mother?"

Henry's face lit up, a smile creasing his face. "Of course!" Henry answered quickly. Killian let out an audible sigh, relief making his shoulders sag. Henry's face furrowed after a few moments. "But why did you ask me for your blessing? Why not Grandpa?"

Chewing on his lip, Killian regarded the lad in front of him, so grown from when Killian had first met him. Henry would grow to be a good man, better than Killian of that he was sure. That thought only filled him with pride. "Well, lad, for the sake of honesty, I need to tell you that I did talk to Dave first. But only because the prospect of asking him was less daunting than asking you," Killian hurried on quickly so as to explain himself and not upset Henry. "Henry, you are the most important person to Emma. She would do anything for you. I'm sure you remember, but in case you need reminding, you were her first true love. I can't imagine not asking you for your blessing. And not just because you're her son. If I am lucky enough that your mother says yes, you'll be part of this family too. I could never replace Bae but I want to give you what I never had. I want to show you what a father means- if I can even figure that out in the first place. So I guess that's another reason why I'm asking. You need to agree to take an old, broken pirate in too."

"I'm not marrying you, Killian," Henry said, tone serious but eyes light. Killian chuckled. "That's Mom's job. But thanks for the gesture. I appreciate it." Henry wrapped his arms around Killian, holding tightly, emotion getting the best of him. Killian dislodged his hand and ran it up Henry's back, trying his best to make soothing sounds.

Eventually Henry pulled back, taking a deep breath. "I thought you were dead. I saw Mom stab you after you pulled all the darkness into you. I saw you bleed out. I saw you _die._ And it hurt worse than when my father died. Maybe that was because I still didn't remember him then. Maybe it was because I saw you die and not him. But it hurt. Mom was so upset. And then I saw her pull her own heart out and I thought she was going to crush it, that she couldn't live without you. I thought I'd lose too parents that day." Killian's heart clenched at those words that tumbled from Henry's lips. _Two parents._ Henry continued on, as if what he'd said wasn't life altering in importance. "But Mom ripped her own heart in two and brought you back. She saved you. And then you saved her. You brought her back."

"And she brought me back again," Killian added. Henry nodded solemnly.

"It's been so messed up. Everything for the last few years. But since you saved us all by getting rid of the darkness things have been good. I like the good. I like being at the cottage and living with you two. I'm not used to it. It's still scary because it might go away, but if this is one of the ways we can keep everything together then I want you to marry my mom. Tomorrow if you can."

Killian laughed wetly, emotions running high. "I don't think your grandmother would allow a wedding on such short notice," Killian forced out. "Your mother is a princess after all." The idea that he, Captain Hook, was going to marry a princess, the _Crown Princess_ of the Enchanted Forest, still boggled his mind.

"You'll be a prince," Henry replied, seeming to feel the same level of emotion.

"I think I'll stick to pirate, lad."

Henry stood, Killian following simply because he didn't want moment to end. "So did you really need my help or was that just a ruse to get me out of the house so you could talk to me?"

"A bit of both?" Killian answered. "I do need help planning a way to give Emma the ring. You're better at the operations than me."

"So you have a ring?" Henry asked, starting towards downtown again. Killian hurried after him.

"Aye. It's the ring she used to wear around her neck. It was one I wore for years. I gave it to her in Camelot. It was supposed to make her feel strong. She gave it back to me after I had the panic attack but it's time it goes back to her, but this time on her finger."

Henry nodded, taking it all in. They walked in silence, Henry formulating his newest master plan. When they walked past the fairies' Christmas store he stopped, eyes alight and Killian knew he'd come up with the perfect plan.

With his little package for Emma stowed carefully in his jacket pocket, Killian strode up the gang plank of the Jolly. He'd dropped Henry off at Regina's before moving in the direction of the docks. This part of the mission hadn't become clear until he'd talked with Henry but now that the next step in Killian's plan had been formulated, it was something he had to do alone.

Killian thumped down into the captain's quarters and moved to the drawers he still used to hold some of his belongings. Not everything had been moved to the new house, simply because there were some things that Killian couldn't bare not to have on his ship. One of those things was a small wooden box in the second drawer.

The box was exactly where he'd remembered. Killian took it out of the drawer, holding it gently in his hand, unwilling to risk hurting it with his hook. Moving to the desk, Killian sat the box on it and took a seat. The box was well worn, the clasp barely secure anymore. A scrawling name crossed the top, _Liam Jones._ Tears pricked at Killian's eyes as he ran a light finger across the letters. _God, he missed him so much._

Taking a deep breath Killian opened the box, pulling out some papers that had come lose from Liam's old journals over the centuries, an old tassel off Liam's first tricorn and the papers awarding him a ship's berth as a deck hand. Underneath it all was a small metal ring.

Killian picked it up, holding it between two fingers. This was the first time in almost a year that he'd held it, not having taken it out since right after he'd gotten the Jolly back and returned his most treasured belongings to the ship. The ring was plain save for a series of waves engraved on the silver, still shining despite its age. Killian polished the metal once a year on the anniversary of his brother's death. This ring had been the first purchase Liam had made after getting his first official job on a ship- beyond any traded years and slavery. Liam had always said a real sailor had a ring, a signifier of his status. Maybe that was why Killian wore so many heavy metal bands. Eventually the ring had grown too small for Liam, hands broadened from years working on a ship, working his way up the naval hierarchy, and thus put away. Liam had been buried with his second ring, Killian unable to take it as a memory, just in case Liam needed it in the underworld to tell the Ferry Man he was the finest captain the realm had ever seen. But this small ring, Killian had kept. _Until now._

When Henry had given his blessing then allowed his feelings to spill forth Killian had realized something. Henry needed a reminder that he was a part of their new family, no matter what. Killian may not have been his father by birth or blood, he may not even be capable of being a good father, but he wanted Henry to know that he would try. Killian would lay down his life for Henry a million times over. Just like he would have for Liam.

Killian slipped the ring into his pocket, wiping a tear he hadn't realized had fallen from his cheek. Everything else went back into the box and then into the drawer. With a final glance towards the closed drawer Killian grasped the ring, making sure it stayed in place and left the Jolly Roger. It was time to finish the rest of the preparations.

On Christmas Eve Killian placed a gold shimmery ornament on the tree, right in the middle. Written on the front was _Our First Christmas_ in an elegant script _._ Henry had arranged to spend the night with Regina under the guise of wanting to experience Rolland's first Christmas, but really to give Killian the time and space to go through with the plan. Emma hadn't argued, Rolland had been telling everyone how excited he was for Santa for the past month so it just made sense Henry be with the young boy. Henry would be arriving at the cottage the following morning around ten.

Emma came into the living room, slipping her arms around his waist. She was wearing a soft cashmere sweater of dark holly green which made her own eyes brighter, golden hair shining in the light of the tree. Killian had never seen anyone so beautiful. He wanted to break open the ornament that very moment and ask her the question he'd been practicing in the mirror for days. Instead he turned and kissed her.

"That's a lovely ornament," Emma remarked when they'd broken apart. "Thank you."

"Henry told me it was a tradition. I thought we should have one on our first tree," Killian answered, as casually as he could. Emma narrowed her eyes at him for a moment and Killian held his breath. _Had she figured it out?_ After what seemed like an eternity Emma turned back to the tree for a moment.

"Well, it's lovely."

Killian gave her a warm smile. "Not as lovely as you, Swan. But as much as I'd love to watch you in front of the tree all night, we have to get to your mother's house."

Killian took her hand and pulled her away from the tree, and more importantly, the ornament. Mary Margaret was having a party that night to celebrate the first Christmas she had her whole family together and they weren't threatened. From what Emma had told him, the entire town had been invited. Killian couldn't figure out how they would all fit in the tiny loft. When they arrived, it was obvious that Killian's concerns had been right. The place was packed, people spilling out into the hall and stairs, chatting animatedly. Everyone wanted to talk to Emma and Killian, the two who had sent the darkness from the town, saving them all. Killian just wanted to be with Emma.

They didn't stay at the party for long. Killian told Emma that it was just too much for him. It wasn't far from the truth. There were just too many people, too many gifts being plied on him as a thank you. Too many questioning looks from Henry and David. Killian just wanted to get home and get down on one knee.

Emma agreed to leave without issue. She seemed to be feeling the same level of overwhelmed. After saying a good bye that was far too long for Killian who had been growing more anxious each second, the two of them left. Killian helped Emma load the presents in the back of the Bug just to give him something to do with his hand.

Emma had to have suspected something. Killian was never _this_ quiet or fidgety. To stop himself from spilling the beans before they got home he didn't say anything, instead pretending to wipe traces of icing from his hook.

When they got to the house Emma got out, catching Killian's shoulder before he could grab the gifts from the back seat. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, Swan. But do you think we could open a gift each tonight?" Killian raised a brow, trying to look as normal as possible. Emma chewed on her lip, measuring his words for a lie. She seemed to find none.

"Well, if that's going to settle you down, sure." Killian had to bite his lip to keep from sighing with relief.

Emma helped Killian grab the gifts and take them inside before settling on the couch. Killian stood beside the tree, running his fingers down his jeans. He was not going to propose with sweaty hands. Captain Hook didn't get nervous like that. Lt. Jones did though. Hopefully Killian Jones, pirate and hero, could find a balance and do this right.

"So what gifts do you want to open so badly?" Emma asked, amused by his antics.

Killian took a deep breath then turned to the tree, pulling the gold ornament off the tree. Emma shot him a confused look that had a tinge of disappointment to it. Had she guessed he was going to propose and was waiting for a little velvet box? She should have known better than to expect something so plain when Killian and Henry were involved in the planning.

"Not to offend you or anything, Killian, but I've already seen that ornament. Don't you want to unwrap something?"

Killian grabbed Emma's hand, hanging the ornament on his hook momentarily, so he could pull her up in front of him. "It's not the ornament, my love. It's what's inside." Killian pulled the wide metal top off, pinning the ornament to his chest with his bad arm and grasping the ring inside with two fingers. He pulled it out he held it up for Emma to see before sinking down on one knee. Her hand flew to her mouth, hiding the trembling that had begun.

"Emma Swan. Daughter. Mother. Sister. Crown princess. Saviour. My heart. My love. You have many names but I'd like to add one more. _Wife._ " Emma's eyes began to well up though Killian could see she was fighting the emotion. Killian didn't even bother, allowing his voice to become choked up as he pushed on. "I've loved you for a very long time. You rescued me from the dark, showed me the error of my ways. You made me proud to be Killian Jones again by helping me become a hero, to find a new purpose in life. We've lost each other so many times, right from the very beginning on the bean stalk, be it through physical distance, past scars or present darkness. But like your parents we always find each other. You've given me a family, in you and your son and parents, friends as well in Dave and Robin. For the first time in centuries I'm no longer alone. For the first time since Liam's death I know he would be proud of me. I know I'm a one handed pirate, down here on one knee asking a bloody princess to marry me but I am. So Emma Swan- what do you say?"

Emma stared at him for a few long moments. Killian felt like the heart he'd just poured out at her feet would pound its way out of his chest. Emma let out a strangled sob and fell to her knees in front of him. "Of course," she answered, holding out her hand. Killian slid the ring onto her shaking finger. It was fitting, the red stone non-traditional but special, exactly like their relationship. With the ring placed firmly on her finger it was as if they both came alive, pulling each other simultaneously into a passionate kiss.

"I love you," Killian murmured, resting his forehead against hers.

"I love you too," Emma replied, brushing her lips against his again.

Emma stood without another word, pulling Killian up the stairs to their bedroom. As they moved together in their bed, snow falling peacefully outside, Emma continued to whisper _fiancé_ in his ear, tone one of awe. Listening to that, Killian realized how much he couldn't wait for the word to change, to hear _husband_ over and over as he carried Emma through the throws of passion on their wedding night.

Henry woke them both in the morning by slamming the front door. It wasn't a gesture of anger, more of a warning. He knew what was supposed to have gone on the previous night and wasn't stupid as to what that would mean.

"Merry Christmas," he hollered up the stairs.

"Merry Christmas, lad," Killian yelled back, rolling out of bed. Emma groaned but followed, both getting dressed.

Henry was waiting in front of the tree when the couple got downstairs. His eyes immediately went to Emma's hand, smile lighting up the room when he saw the ring shining on her finger. Henry bounced over to them, wrapping his mother in a hug.

"Did you know?" she asked suspiciously when Henry had pulled back,

"Of course," Henry answered proudly. "Someone had to plan a proper proposal. I called it Operation Ornament."

Killian snorted a laugh, Henry grinning at the sound. Emma just looked between the two of them, shaking her head in disbelief. "Well, I appreciate it. It was wonderful." Emma ruffled Henry's hair before leading them all to the living room to open presents.

The next hour progressed pleasantly with smiles and laughter. Wrapping paper was tossed about, littering the floor. Emma kept glancing at her ring as it caught the light, making Killian happier than any of the gifts had made him. Henry got several new journals to write in, a mechanical toy controlled by a remote that Killian didn't understand and some new clothing. He'd opened other gifts at Regina's, most of his presents being carried over there to give him something to unwrap with Rolland's Santa gifts. From her mother and father, Emma had received a tiara with a note attached saying it was a tradition but they'd missed giving it to her at twenty one. She'd been touched by the gift, running her fingers over the silver crown inlaid with lavender gems in a similar way as she ran her fingers over the ring Killian had given her. From Henry, Emma had unwrapped a new pair of mittens and a hat to match her red leather jacket, pulling the cream and red beanie on immediately. Most of the gifts addressed to her and Killian from the townspeople were ornaments, each one going on to the now very full tree.

Killian had been astounded by his gifts, overwhelmed by the kindness the people he'd come to love were showing him. It was more than he could have ever imagined. Emma had given him a new spyglass engraved with swans and her parents had gifted the pirate a new flask. It wasn't as if they were trying to replace his centuries old versions, the ones that had been with him through the most horrible events of his long life. These were meant to signify a new start, whether he used them or kept them on the shelf, one he was very thankful to have. From Henry, Killian unwrapped a gift, immediately becoming choked up. Inside was a mug with the words _World's Best Dad_ written across it.

Instead of saying thank you, which Killian wasn't sure he'd be able to do, he pulled out a small silver package, the last gift to be unwrapped, and handed it to Henry. Killian held the mug tightly in his hand as he watched Henry rip into the present, pulling out a small velvet box. With tentative fingers Henry opened it to reveal Liam's old ring.

"I thought I told you I wasn't marrying you?" Henry said, voice laden with emotion despite the joking words.

"I know, lad," Killian answered, swallowing thickly as Henry put the ring on his index finger. "But I wanted you to have something too. I'm marrying your mother but I'm not forgetting you. That was Liam's ring, the first one he'd ever bought as a lad not much older than you. He was so proud of it. I kept it after he died as a reminder of the family I'd lost. But I found my family again. In you two. Emma got my own ring but I thought should get Liam's to remind you of your newest family member. If you want that, of course," Killian added sheepishly, glancing down at the mug he still held.

Henry moved from the sofa and hugged Killian. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, lad," Killian replied, relief plain in his voice. Emma watched them both, soft smile on her lips.

A little while later they were all sitting on the sofa watching some ridiculous Christmas movie that Killian really didn't understand, about a man in green tights who thought he was an elf. Despite the distracting antics of the sugar fueled man on the DVD, Killian felt a peace from being surrounded by his family, a relief from the torment of much of his life. Sitting there he started to realize that maybe it had never been revenge he'd needed. Maybe it had been _this_.


	9. House Party

_A/N:_ Here's the final holiday chapter- New Years. I hope you all like it and don't find it too cheesy. I really struggled with it because I have a hard time with New Years myself and am also dealing with some mental health issues that make writing difficult. I'm not sure when I'll be back but I do have plans so I will be back as soon as I feel up to it. So far I've got on my list- getting a puppy, a backyard wedding and as requested, a driving lesson. If you guys have any ideas let me know. Who knows, one might spark my creativity and get me writing? Thanks for all the support, it really helps me feel better! Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Emma hadn't told her parents about the engagement until Christmas dinner, opting to spend the morning and afternoon alone with her son and fiancé. _Fiancé._ Despite her pleasure at the engagement she really wished she hadn't told her mother at supper either. It wasn't as if she didn't want to marry Killian. She _couldn't_ wait to marry the man. But as soon as her mother heard she was already planning her wedding, a large, ostentatious thing that was the exact opposite to what she wanted. It was starting to scare Emma. She'd just gotten engaged and hadn't freaked out. Didn't she deserve a few days of peace before her old walls were pushed at again?

Mary Margaret had also quickly decided that they needed a party to announce the impending wedding. This family had parties for everything: welcome homes, ding dong the witch is dead shindigs and naming ceremonies. Of course they needed to have one for Emma, the crown princess's, engagement. With New Year's Eve coming up her mother quickly decided that would be the perfect time to celebrate and the cottage on Albatross Lane would be the perfect place. She'd managed to convince them of it by rolling the house warming and engagement party all into one- which meant one less party for Emma to deal with. Emma wouldn't argue with that logic.

The following days had been filled with planning, Emma reluctantly being dragged along. She could understand why Mary Margaret wanted this party- she'd already missed so much in Emma's life and this was a major milestone- but it didn't mean that she wanted to be involved in picking out which appetizers went best with which wine. Emma would have been fine with a few bottles of rum and a box of sausage rolls.

Killian didn't seem to mind the idea of the party so much. Food, drinking, merriment, showing off his lass- it was a pirate's dream. But Emma saw it for what it was- one more way for Killian to feel normal again. Despite his determination to hold a successful party, she could see the tentativeness Killian was hiding, the nerves that it would be too much to handle in one night. Emma felt it all too.

The couple had avoided any big groups for months, first because of Emma, then Killian. They still got their Granny's to go, skipping the family meals each week. Killian only ventured out with Emma, David or Henry, and never alone, even to the Jolly. Emma still had nightmares and would wake the entire house with her screams. Henry too. One morning Killian had woken to find Henry curled up with his blanket on the floor beside their bed, seeking comfort but too proud to ask. They were all a bit of a mess. But they were still getting better every day.

The engagement had been a big step to making their lives right again. It was as if the whole atmosphere of the cottage had changed, started improving faster. Those rings now decorating Emma's and Henry's hands served as visible reminders, just like Graham's shoelace or the swan pendant, but this time of good things. The metal bands were signs that life was going to- was getting- better. They were proof to the world that they were a family. This party was only going to help confirm that knowledge to the rest of Storybrooke.

And it seemed as nearly all of Storybrooke was invited to see the proof of their engagement. Emma wasn't sure she knew half the people coming but her mother did. When you're queen of the land you tend to know too many people so Emma was beginning to doubt her mother was a good judge on invitations. Killian seemed to agree and had made a few rules about who would be allowed in the house.

Smee was allowed to come should he see fit because he had been such a loyal first mate but none of the other crew members were allowed to even step foot through the doorway. While at face value that seemed rather harsh, it did make sense. Those pirates belonged to Killian's days as Captain Hook the villain, not the hero he so desperately had fought to be now. They didn't fit in the Albatross Lane cottage and Killian didn't trust them to not get out of hand without his brutal authority, something he refused to exhibit at his engagement party of all things. The biggest nix of an invitation was also the most obvious with Killian vehemently stating Gold was never to come on his property, practically growling out the words. Belle could come if she so chose but no Gold. _Never Gold._

The morning of the party Mary Margaret marched into the cottage, arms laden with everything she'd deemed necessary for the party. As Emma watched the Christmas decorations disappear, packed away for next year, and replaced with silver and gold streamers and banners to herald in the New Year she started to feel excited. The house was bright and alive. A bar cart was set up in the hallway between the living room and kitchen, the kitchen counters and breakfast nook covered in the non-refrigerated finger foods. Emma was under strict instructions to lay the rest out ten minutes to eight so the cheeses and dips would have time to come up to temperature and not be so hard when the guests arrived. Emma didn't even know that was an issue but her mother was the one who knew how to throw a party so she set an alarm for 8:50 without question.

Despite her initial hesitance surrounding the party Emma the excitement grew, along with quite a few butterflies. Just like with Christmas, she'd always seen the parties on TV but never experienced it. They'd always hurt. Why celebrate bringing in a New Year when you were alone and abandoned? It just made everything worse. Sometimes when she was feeling really terrible about herself she'd watch the Ball drop and all the couples kiss at the stroke of midnight then drink herself to sleep. She hadn't celebrated with Neal, they hadn't been together long enough to reach Christmas, let alone New Years. Emma had memories of a New Year's in New York but she hadn't been with Walsh long enough to feel comfortable being with him on a holiday that had haunted her for so long. Not that their relationship had been real anyways _._ But tonight, tonight was _real_. Emma wanted to be with Killian for every New Year's she had left.

And not only was it her first New Year's party it was also her engagement party. For the last few days Emma had caught herself staring at her hand, watching the way the ring caught the light. It wasn't a traditional diamond ring but when had Emma been traditional? Emma could still hear Killian's words in Camelot when he first gave it to her, telling her it had kept him alive for years and would bring Emma, not the dark one, back to him. She hadn't realized the true magnitude of his words until he'd explained all his rings to her that night on the street. Liam's ring, his beloved brother, the one he so constantly battled to feel worthy of, now rested on her finger. Emma knew what it would have taken for him to give it up. It left her breathless to think about how much she must mean to Killian. And now she was going to get to celebrate that.

"Swan!" Killian shouted up the stairs, making Emma smile to herself. He'd been out for the day, working at finishing the winterizing of the Jolly with Henry who would be arriving later with Regina. "Why is this table filled with ridiculous liquor? Why does one need rum flavoured like coconut? Where is the good rum?"

Emma snorted, leaning back from where she'd been curling her hair in the mirror to shout out the door. "There's whiskey on the bar and David is bringing rum as a housewarming gift for you. In the meantime, your flask is up here."

Feet thumped up the stairs two at a time. There was just something magical about existing with someone else in a space that got to Emma. It was something she'd never imagined having, only ever living in a sparse and cheap apartment save for the year with Henry. It wasn't as if she was entertaining Killian, having just invited him to her space. This was theirs. They lived their own lives, intertwined but independent. Sometimes, when the memories got too much, they needed their space. Killian disappeared into the bedroom to be with some of the old bits off the Jolly or Emma would find herself wandering out to the deck to sit and stare at the front yard or water. Other times, they came together, holding each other through the night, attempting to cook and then admitting defeat and calling Granny's for onion rings and grilled cheeses, working towards finally finishing the renovation. It was only in the moments of peace and the moments of tension, all held within the house that Emma realized how much she had wanted the domesticity of her life with Killian.

Killian came around the corner of the bedroom. "Hello, love," he greeted, smiling through the open bathroom door.

"Welcome home. Are you going to change for the party? I expect Mary Margaret to bust through the door at any moment thinking I've torn everything down."

"Do you want to?" Killian asked then groaned as he stretched, sore from his day. While he moved around the bedroom Emma went back to finishing her hair.

"No, not anymore."

"So, explain this holiday to me one more time, please?"

Emma put down the curling iron and unplugged it. "It's a way to celebrate the New Year. People gather together and go to parties or eat Chinese takeout and when it's ten seconds to midnight everyone starts yelling and counting down. When the clock strikes midnight all the couples kiss." Emma placed one of the pearl earrings Killian had given her Christmas night, after their dinner, in her ear. They were from her mother's kingdom and when he'd found them on his ship he thought she should have them.

"And have you celebrated every year?" Killian asked, rummaging through the closet.

"No," Emma answered quietly. "It isn't fun to celebrate alone. I've never had a New Year's that was worth ringing in. First I was in foster care, then in jail in Phoenix after Neal, then alone for ten years. I didn't even celebrate with Walsh. The holiday's about celebrating what was before and what was to come. When did I ever have something to celebrate?" Emma didn't mean to sound bitter but it was hard not to.

Killian came into the bathroom, arms sliding around her waist. He placed his chin on her shoulder, watching them both in the mirror. "This year we've got lots to celebrate, love." Killian placed a quick kiss on her cheek. "This year we've travelled to Camelot and back. We've battled the darkness and we won. This year we began to share a heart after I died. We bought a house. We got engaged. I think we've got plenty to celebrate from this year. And next year we're getting married. Even if another damnable villain comes our way we'll get through it together. As a family. Maybe we'll even get a bloody dog."

Emma turned in his arms, kissing him soundly on the lips. Because Killian had never been more right. This year everything had changed. Yes, the years before when Henry had found her and she'd begun to figure out the role of mother had been life changing but this was the year she made herself a home with her son and her pirate. All the missing pieces were there, held snugly within the four walls of the cottage on Albatross Lane.

A loud trilling alarm broke them apart, Emma snorting out a breathless laugh. "Time to put the food out." She extricated herself from Killian's arms, stepping out of the bathroom. Killian followed but broke off to go to the bedside table.

Emma waited at the door, rolling her eyes when Killian held up his flask. "This is proper libations."

"Whatever you say." She waved Killian forward, hurrying him downstairs before her mother showed up and had her hide for not putting out the Gouda. She followed Killian down the stairs, appreciating the view the dark jeans washed to look like leather gave her. Emma reached out, unable to stop herself from touching his broad shoulders encased in a black cotton button up, no vest interrupting the strong line. Sometimes the man stole her breath.

Just as they got to the bottom of the stairs the front door opened, revealing Mary Margaret and David laden with bags and trays. Mary Margaret glanced in the kitchen, mouth opening to speak as soon as she noticed the missing dips.

"Mom, seriously?" Emma groused, feeling like a teenager who'd forgotten to thaw the chicken. David seemed to feel the same way, rolling his eyes and nudging Mary Margaret.

"It's fine, Snow. They were coming down the stairs now. Cheese that's two degrees too cold isn't going to ruin a party."

Mary Margaret sighed. "I know. But this is our daughter's engagement party."

"It's multiple things," Emma reminded. She moved past her parents to put out the food.

"I know," her mother answered. "Which is why it's even more special." The emotion in her voice kept Emma from responding, instead studying the dip she was carefully removing saran wrap from.

"Finally! Proper rum," Killian's victorious cry came from the hallway making both the women laugh, tension dissipating. Killian came into the kitchen, a bottle of dark rum grasped in his hand. Killian set it on the counter with the warming dips and went to find four shot glasses. He filled them then handed the glasses out. David raised an eyebrow but took the alcohol anyways.

"I thought we could have a proper toast before the hoard arrived and Grumpy tried to drink all the rum."

"What are we toasting?" Emma asked, fingering the glass.

Killian gave her a warm smile before turning to her parents. "Emma and I were talking upstairs. Neither one of us have had much to celebrate in our lives. We've both lost so much. We nearly lost each other so many times in the last few months alone. We both did absolutely horrible things. To others. To each other." Emma crossed the kitchen, hands shaking. It always hurt so much when the time as the dark ones came up. Images of when Killian told her why she was an orphan ripped through her. A tear streaked down her cheek. She could feel tremors going up her arm as if she was still holding Excalibur, killing the pirate. Killian slid his hooked arm around her, squeezing. "But we've come through it. I have to believe that. It's the only thing that keeps the nightmares at bay. Earlier Emma explained this holiday to me. And while I understand her hesitance I know we need this. My darling, Swan, this holiday is something we need to move on. I want to celebrate with you. Every day. In this house. So I propose a toast- that we drink to our future. To finding happiness. To Albatross Lane. I propose that we drink and then we crush the glasses so we can move on." Killian held up the glass, the other three following suit. Emma wasn't the only one crying now.

"Here, here!" David shouted. They all tossed back the burning liquid then, following Killian's lead, threw the glasses against the ground. The kitchen filled with the sound of glass shattering and the doorbell.

The sheer timing caused Emma to dissolve into tearful laughter. Mary Margaret wiped her eyes and led David to the door to welcome the guests. Emma glanced up at Killian. "That was beautiful."

Killian gave her that soft smile that warmed her right to her toes then brushed his thumb across her cheek, collecting her tears. "It was the truth." Emma leaned forward, capturing his lips as Henry's voice came from the hallway. Killian pulled away slowly, reluctantly, and gestured down to the floor. "If you're alright, why don't we get this mess cleaned up before the Queen steps on it?"

With a flick of her wrist the glass disappeared. "There."

"I love you, Swan."

"Love you too."

"Whoa, what's going on here? Is something wrong? Mom? Killian?" Henry stood just off the counter, watching their exchange. Emma knew her eyes would still be red rimmed, her foundation tear stained.

"Nothing, kid. We're just really happy." Emma gestured for Henry to come closer and wrapped him in a hug. Killian's arms came around them both, holding tight.

"I'm glad," Henry replied, voice muffled. Emma kissed the top of his head before they broke apart. Emma ran her fingers under her eyes, trying to clean up a bit as more people were ushered into the house by her parents.

Emma grabbed Killian's hand, entwining their fingers. She took a deep breath, expelling the last of the painful memories that had just haunted her. "Okay. Party time."

What followed was several hours of partying. The engagement had been announced right away to cheers and demands to see the ring. After that, alcohol had flowed freely and food eaten. It was at once both exciting and overwhelming. Too many people and just enough to remind her of the home she'd found in the town. Killian stuck with her at the beginning, holding her hand or running his hook down her arm, as they both got used to the people filling their home to the gunnels.

At a little after eleven Killian had disappeared off with her father and Robin, the bottle of rum suspiciously going missing at the same time. Emma didn't bother going looking for them. They were still in the house. How much trouble could they get into? Especially with Prince Charming in tow. Emma spent the time with her son who was getting very sleepy but was determined to make it to New Years. They sat at the breakfast nook, watching the guests, placing bets on who would kiss who at midnight using the Hershey Kisses that Belle had brought.

" _It's time!"_ Leroy's very inebriated voice cut through the party. Henry sprang up, running into the living room where the countdown was on the TV. Emma followed, glancing around for Killian. Killian wasn't in the kitchen or in the living room. _Seriously?_

She was _not_ missing her first New Year's Eve kiss because her fiancé got drunk with her father. Emma ran into the hallway.

"Killian Jones!" she bellowed. "If you don't get your ass over here right now I'll take your other hand!"

"Ten!"

"I'm sharpening my knife, Captain Soon-To-Be-Two-Hooks!"

"Nine!"

There was an uncoordinated thumping from upstairs then Killian popped around the corner, followed closely by her father and Robin, both who seemed drunker than the pirate. "Coming, love!" Killian rushed down the stairs, arms going wide to hug her. Emma shook her head. Her fiancé was so ridiculous.

"Eight!" Killian jumped the last few steps into her arms, Emma rocking back under the force.

"Seven!" The shouts were getting louder, excitement buzzing through the air.

"Six!" David and Robin dashed around them into the living room to find their respective partners in time.

"Ready, love?" Killian asked, cocking a brow.

"Ready." Emma grinned at him.

" _Five!"_ They both shouted together.

"Four!" Killian pulled her tighter against him.

"Three!" They were practically yelling in each other's ears.

"Two!" Nearly there. Emma could practically taste their new beginning. It tasted like a pirate full of rum.

"One! Happy New Years!"

Emma and Killian lunged at the same time, crashing together with a force that had teeth clacking. Tongues danced as Emma grasped the collar of his shirt to her, Killian's arms sliding lower around her waist. Killian growled as Emma nipped at his bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth when Killian let up momentarily for a breath. It wasn't a fight for dominance but rather a show of determination for the future, to try their best at healing from the past, to forgive, to love. There was cheering around them which Emma initially thought was for the New Year but it seemed it wasn't as when they broke apart, all eyes were on the newly engaged couple.

Emma blushed and the tips of Killian's ears turned pink.

"Welcome to the New Year, love," Killian whispered in her ear before taking an ostentatious bow. Emma rolled her eyes at the antics.

"Welcome home," Emma murmured back. Killian didn't seem to hear but it didn't really matter. They both felt it.


	10. Henry's Room

_A/N:_ You can all thank PhoebetheQueenofDragons for this chapter. I really didn't think I'd feel up to writing for a while but her prompt for this really hit something in me and got me writing. So I spent a good portion of what would have been a lonely night writing which was nice. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I do. Any prompts you have let me know- you never know what might get me writing. Thanks for all the support, follows, favourites, views and reviews. Let me know what you think! Enjoy! And Happy New Year.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

The floor creaking woke Killian. He paused in bed, waiting to see if he really was awake or if it was his dreams again, Nimue coming to kill Emma, or Arthur, the bloody ponce, coming for him with Excalibur to finish the job. Killian wiggled his toes, the smooth cotton sheets rippling over them, grounding him. Okay, so he wasn't dreaming. When he did that in his dreams he usually felt the grass and leaves that covered the forest floor in Camelot. Killian snuck his hand out underneath the covers and grasped his hook from the hanger on the side of the bedside table, clicking it into place. With the nightmares he'd been leaving his brace on to allow for easy hook replacement, a comfort of sort in the uncertainty the dreams brought. Tonight Killian was glad of the new habit.

Another creak of the floor signaled another step. It was louder this time. Closer. Where the floor didn't creak, the sound of a foot padding against it filled the silence. The footsteps were slow and deliberate, obviously the person was trying not to wake Emma and Killian up. It was either Henry, the only other person living in the house, or someone very adept at sneaking into the house. If it was Will thinking this was a funny joke, Killian was going to hang the bloody thief out the window by his toes. When the person settled on the floor with a rustling sound Killian knew who it was and why someone had snuck into the master bedroom. Henry. This wasn't the first time this had happened, but it was the first time when Killian was feeling healthy enough not to sleep through the quiet footsteps.

Emma, bless her, could sleep through anything so hadn't stirred at all at the intrusion. Moving slowly, so as not to startle the boy Killian pushed himself up and out of bed. The top of Henry's brown hair was just visible on the other side of the mattress. Henry might have been quiet but after centuries of living on the wrong side of the law, sneaking into castles and out of ladies' bedrooms, Killian was quieter. Killian crept around the foot of the bed, stopping to watch Henry for a moment.

The lad was curled on the mat at the floor of Emma's side, asleep in the fetal position. The cream throw blanket that usually hung off the edge of Henry's bed was wrapped around his thin frame. It broke Killian's heart. This wasn't a regular occurrence, only happening twice since he moved back in, but it was enough to tell Killian that the boy was hurting.

Henry was always so positive that it was sometimes hard to remember that he felt the negative things just as strongly. It seemed that he'd gotten his mother's reluctance to talk about his feelings but it may also have been Henry trying to be a man. Killian figured that was the reason and it was his attempt to seem adult and strong. It wasn't as if Henry had role models that would make him think it was okay to cry from a nightmare and call for his mother. His grandfather was Prince Charming, and the two men that would most likely both become stepfathers sooner rather than later were Captain Hook and Robin Hood. It wasn't as if the men never showed emotion, Henry himself finding Killian in a ball on the kitchen floor weeks ago, but the legend Killian carried tended to outweigh the experiences.

Killian bent to the lad and gave his shoulder a shake. Henry started but swallowed the noise he'd been about to make when he saw Killian squatting beside him in the dark. When the realization that he'd been caught his cheeks started to redden and he glanced down at the floor. Rapidly Henry tried to push himself up to escape. Killian gave him a soft smile and grasped his arm, nodding his head out the door. Henry let out a soft sigh, accepting that he'd been caught, and walked out of the room with the older man.

Shutting the door to the master bedroom Killian released Henry. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Henry sputtered out when Killian turned back to him.

"It's alright, lad. I don't mind." His heart clenched again. Killian could remember trying to be strong on the first boat he'd been sold to. Some nights he would try and seek comfort with Liam, sneaking to his hammock in the dead of night. The crew had caught him once and Killian hadn't ever heard the end of it. That had ended Killian's midnight journeys to his brother and when the nightmares came he'd huddle in his bunk alone until sunrise and work began. Killian couldn't do that to Henry. Killian gestured towards Henry's bedroom. "Why don't you go get settled, I'll go make some cocoa and we can have a little chat?"

"You don't have to," Henry replied.

"But I want to. Now go, let's not dawdle out here and wake your mother." Henry gave him a small smile at that.

"Don't forget the cinnamon."

"Who do you take me as?" Killian answered in mock outrage. "Do you think your mother would agree to marry me if I didn't remember the importance of cinnamon?" Henry shook his head, rolling his eyes, and started towards his room.

Killian hurried down the stairs to the kitchen, flicking the light on with his hook. Killian opened the cupboard door, pulling down Henry's ridiculous Pirates of the Caribbean mug and the handled travel mug Emma had one day shown up with for him. Emma hadn't made a big deal about the mug, just slipping it into place with the regular ones and telling him he was free to use it whenever he wanted. Killian had immediately understood and had been so grateful about her subtlety. It was difficult to carry two regular mugs for him when they were full, especially with hot liquids in them. Trying to balance two, or especially three, in his hand risked burns, something he'd made due with for years, accepting it as a side effect of his amputation, but Emma hadn't. The travel mug's lid allowed for him to hang the mug off his hook without risking spills while carrying a regular one (or two if he was getting one for both Emma and Henry). When just getting a drink for himself, usually his morning coffee, Killian would fill the mug Henry had gotten him, always swallowing against a lump at the sight of _World's Best Dad_ written across the front. If he could find a lid for the top of that mug he'd be the happiest pirate pseudo-father of all time.

Grabbing the supplies from the fridge and neighbouring cupboard Killian hurried to mix together the hot chocolate. He threw the two mugs into the microwave, pressing the buttons Emma had shown him when they'd bought the little cooking box. It whirred to life, Killian standing in front of it, tapping his foot impatiently. He didn't want to keep Henry waiting, feeling whatever had brought him into their room alone. When the microwave beeped Killian slipped the lid onto the travel mug then brought them both back to the counter before again uncovering his own. He squeezed whip cream onto Henry's cocoa, the can sputtering at the end signalling its end before Killian could give his own some. Killian shook his head good naturedly. They'd gone through so much of the stuff lately as they all struggled forward, sometimes only fueled by determination and the sugary liquid. A shake of cinnamon on both and Killian was securing the lid on the travel mug again, hanging it off his hook, flicking off the kitchen light and starting up the stairs.

Henry was sitting up in his bed, the room dark. The moonlight filtering in through the window gave enough light for Killian to pick his way around the video games and clothing scattered across the floor to the bed. Killian handed over the mug then waited for Henry to nod his assent for Killian to join him on the mattress. Killian sat, pushing back against the wall then opened the mug top, taking a small sip.

"So lad," Killian started quietly, not looking at Henry in an attempt to make the lad feel less pressured to talk. "What brought you in to your mother and I's room tonight?"

"Nothing," Henry replied after swallowing thickly. "It's dumb."

Now Killian turned to the boy. "It's not dumb, Henry, if it upset you." Henry chewed on his lip, debating. "You know, I have nightmares all the time. Just tonight, I thought Arthur was coming to get me when you walked in the room. But your mother never thinks I'm dumb if I wake up yelling. It happens to her too."

Henry sighed. "It was a nightmare." Another pause as Henry took a drink of his cocoa. "Everyone was being attacked by the Dark Ones you called up, and the Queens of Darkness and Pan. I don't know where you or my Moms were." Killian cringed, angry at himself for causing the boy so much trauma. How could he be a good father when he'd hurt the boy so? His hand clenched around the mug but he forced himself to continue listening to Henry. "Robin and Grampa were fighting but they were losing. And I couldn't do anything. I'm not a hero. I've got no powers and I can't fight. Because of me you all died." Henry's voice was shaky but it seemed that he was less upset about the nightmare and more about feeling incapable. "I guess that's why I came into your room. I figured that if someone came for you guys I'd wake up first and guys could have time to get away."

"Lad," Killian said softly, more breath than anything, before laying his hand against Henry's shoulder. "You don't need to do that. You're special. You have the heart of the truest believer."

"That's easy for you to say!" Henry snapped back. "You're an actual hero. Both my Moms have really powerful magic. One of my Grandpas was the dark one for centuries and the other is Prince Charming, the most valiant knight in the realm. Grandma's a princess who lived as a bandit and can shoot an arrow nearly as good as Robin Hood who has an enchanted bow. And _you-_ you've been fighting for centuries and have a _bloody_ hook for a hand. You're Captain Hook, most fearsome pirate to ever sail the seas."

Killian sighed. It wasn't as if he could argue the lad's lineage. Henry really came from a talented and rather famous family. But Killian hadn't always had his moniker. No, at one time he'd been a scared child with his own hero to look up to.

"May I tell you a story, lad?" Henry shrugged. Killian took that for assent. "I may be a pirate but I'm not the real hero of my family. The real hero is the man whose ring you now wear." Killian gestured to Henry's hand with his hook, drawing the boy's gaze down to the simple silver band. "Liam Jones did not have any magical powers and for a good long time he was a bloody awful fighter. He had no idea what to do in a brawl let alone in a sword fight. Our father bundled us onto a ship one night, telling us we were going to sail the world together. Liam loved the sea as much as I do, maybe more, so we were both thrilled. But it turned out that my father was wanted and he jumped ship, selling my brother and me into servitude as payment for a row boat." Killian paused for a moment to quell the bitterness in his voice. This was about Henry, not Killian's own scars. Henry was watching him intently so Killian continued on.

"I just had Liam then. My brother looked after me, a child far too young to be on a ship full of older, hardened and sometimes dangerous men. Liam kept me from starving, would give up his own meals when I was fed last and given no more than scraps. Liam took punishments for me when I'd make a mistake and anger the captain. I've only half the whip scars on my back because of that bloody stupid man." Now it wasn't bitterness and anger that tightened Killian's voice. "Liam protected me until our servitude was up. Liam, who had become a wonderful sailor, received a sponsorship to join the navy and secured a placement for myself in a boarding home. Unfortunately, the people he left me with were not as they seemed and I was kicked out, all the money Liam had left me with gone into their pockets. I lived on the street for months before Liam realized something was wrong and came looking. Once again my brother rescued me. Liam convinced the captain of the ship he was working on to take me on as a cabin boy. I lived on ships with Liam as he worked his way up in the Navy, making sure any of his berths included a spot for me in which I'd be treated well. Liam could have become a lieutenant or captain faster but he waited for me. I joined the Navy myself when I came of age, wanting to be everything Liam was. When Liam got his first berth as captain he once again came back for me, but this time I wasn't a cabin boy, I was his lieutenant. That was my last trip with my brother." Killian swallowed. "But that part of the story isn't for tonight. Tonight I wanted to show you that Captain Hook's hero had no magic, wasn't a natural swordsman like your grandfather and I don't think he ever touched a bow and arrow like your grandmother or Robin. Liam was my hero because he was good, and kind, and noble to a fault. Eventually it was his undoing but Liam protected me fiercely, putting himself in danger so I would stay safe, get an extra scrap of bread to eat, avoid the Cat until I was older. I see a lot of my brother in you, Henry, my boy. You are smart and good and true. You believe the best in everyone, even an old villain like myself. How many times have you saved us by figuring things out? You found your mother when you were ten and broke a curse when no one believed you. Even though you don't have your pen anymore, you're the new author. You are a hero, Henry. Don't ever believe anything less."

Henry was watching Killian, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide with wonder. "Truly?"

"I wouldn't have told you that if I didn't believe it. I don't readily share that story."

Henry took a few moments to ponder that, finishing off his drink. "How old was Liam when he started looking after you?"

Killian didn't even have to think about that. Even at over three hundred years old Killian remembered the day clearly. "Liam was about your age. I was a child, still terrified of the dark. Liam wasn't much better but he forced himself to be for me."

"What age did Liam learn to fight?"

"When he joined the Navy at sixteen," Killian answered. Liam had never known how to use a sword when he'd been watching Killian on the first ship. No one taught a slave how to sword fight. A look of relief relaxed Henry's face. Killian saw it for what it was- that it wasn't too late to be the hero he had pictured in his mind. Henry might have been given a lot to chew on from Killian's story, hopefully enough to stave off future nightmares in incapability, but it was hard to change the image of a hero in ten minutes. "Henry, if you want to learn how to properly sword fight I'll teach you." Killian got up and took the empty mug from Henry's hand, watching the lad as he settled himself back into bed, pulling up the covers.

"Thanks, Killian." Henry's voice was sleepy again and his eyes were starting to droop.

"You're welcome. Now next time you have a nightmare wake me up, alright? I don't mind."

"Okay, I will. See you in the morning."

"Night lad." Killian left the room, pulling the door closed behind him. He left the two mugs in the upstairs bathroom to be carried down in the morning and went back to bed. Emma was still asleep when he slipped under the covers, unclipping the hook and hanging it again.

"You're a great father," Emma's voice whispered through the darkness, startling him both because he hadn't expected to hear her voice and because of her words. Killian rolled over to see that Emma had been faking when he'd come in, eyes sleepy but clearly awake.

"You heard that did you?" Killian asked sheepishly, feeling the tips of his ears heat up as he blushed.

"Aye," Emma replied, trying to copy his accent with a small smile. "I couldn't have done that for Henry. He needs you in his life."

"I just told him a story." If Emma had heard everything hadn't she heard that the nightmare monsters were partly Killian's doing?

"Exactly the one he needed to hear. There's a lot he can learn from you."

"I don't want to replace Neal," Killian answered in a quick whisper. Emma smiled, placing a quick kiss against his arguing lips.

"You aren't. Henry never really had Neal in his life as a proper father. Neal got his heroic moment to help rescue Henry in Neverland but that was it. You've been around for so much more- no matter what either of us have done in that period that may have been questionable," Emma added with a wry smile. "Neal will always be Henry's birth father and important to him because of that. But you're someone totally different to him and that role of mentor and soon to be step father you occupy is more than enough. Don't doubt yourself. And if we ever become a little baby's parents, well, I know you'll excel in the role."

Before Killian could break through the tsunami of wonder that had crashed over him at Emma's words, she rolled around and her breathing steadied, signalling her return to sleep. Killian didn't sleep for the rest of the night, instead letting his mind wander to images of Henry and a teetering toddler making their way across the deck of the Jolly Roger, brothers looking out for, and up to, each other.


	11. The Sofa

_A/N:_ I hope you all enjoy this one and I did the topic matter justice. I hope it's not too jumpy and it has enough emotion to seem genuine. It's hard for me to tell sometimes. Let me know what you think about it! I've got five planned chapters left (any prompts given have been worked into the order) but if there's anything you would like to see let me know and if it's not already planned I'll include it! Thanks for all the support- this story, which is really special to me, just passed 100 followers and the reviews mean so much to me. They inspire me to write because they remind me that people want to read it. So I hope you guys feel the same about this one. Thanks! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

The house was unusually quiet when Emma arrived home from work. It confused her. Killian didn't mention going out and he always did. While they were both straying farther from home alone now, a return to normalcy important for them, they still made sure the other always knew where they were. The thought of not knowing where Killian was and if he was okay sent shivers through Emma.

Those shivers were making the hair stand up on her arms as she pulled off her coat. Emma toed off her boots, ears straining to hear voices, the turning of a page, anything. She would have thought Henry had swooped in and pulled Killian away but her son was at Regina's for the night, babysitting Roland so Robin could take Regina out. Their relationship had strengthened since that nightmare talk, Henry going to Killian for advice, following him around when he left the house and taking it upon himself to teach Killian the ins and outs of twenty first century life. Emma had come home many times to find Killian up in Henry's room, arguing over who had exhibited bad form in their Mario Cart race.

Emma padded away from the door into the dim house. "Killian?" she shouted, thinking he might have been upstairs in the shower or having a nap.

"Swan?" a soft groan came from Emma's left. She turned, hurrying into the living room when she saw Killian stretched out on the sofa in the dark room. Emma flicked her wrist, turning on the light, as she came to kneel in front of a very uncomfortable looking pirate.

"What's wrong?" Emma asked, frantically looking over Killian. She half expected to see the old scars on his chest or neck to have opened up, Killian slowly bleeding to death. There was no blood though, even though he sounded as if there should have been.

"All my joints hurt, my head hurts, I'm cold but I'm hot and I can't breathe out of my nose. Is there a new witch in town because I think I've been cursed?" The sheer relief that coursed through Emma made her laugh. Killian shot her a wounded look and she fought to swallow down the noise.

"You've got a man cold."

"An illness that only hits men?"

Emma snorted again. Leave it to Captain Hook to turn into a total sook when he gets a common cold. "No, it's a cold, Killian. I get a big one at least once a year. You're going to feel shitty for a few days then you'll be back to buckling swash in no time." Emma reached over and ran her palm over Killian's forehead, shifting damp hair away from the pale skin. He was burning up. Emma pushed herself up. "Have you never had a cold before?"

Killian pursed his lips, looking as if it hurt to think. "I lived in Neverland for centuries. Not aging means not getting sick. If I did before I don't remember."

Emma nodded, the answer he'd given shifting around in her head. She'd address what that meant later. "I'm going to go get you some stuff to make you feel better. Be right back."

"Don't forget the Jell-O!" Killian croaked out at Emma's back. She rolled her eyes, lifting her hand to show she'd heard. Had she been told back when Killian had first been introduced to Jell-O that he'd be requesting it while moaning on _their_ sofa she would have thrown the teller into jail for public intoxication.

Emma moved through the kitchen to the downstairs bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet and pulling out a thermometer and some cold medicine. Emma had bought this medication when Henry had gotten sick but she'd never even thought about what Killian would prefer. Hell, she'd never even thought of her strong pirate who'd made it through everything even getting sick. The thought of it put an uneasy fluttering through her stomach.

Back in the kitchen she dampened a smaller dishcloth, folding it carefully into a rectangle, and filled a glass with water. From the fridge Emma grabbed a tub of green Jell-O. Killian had purchased the box of premade Jell-O when Henry had gotten sick, showing up from his day out with David with arms full of different colours of the stuff. Henry had humoured the concerned pirate, dutifully eating all the Jell-O Killian presented him with. Emma piled all her supplies and a spoon into her arms then moved back to where Killian lay, arm flung over his eyes.

"Do you want to sit up?" Emma asked softly, setting down her stuff at Killian's feet.

"No," Killian answered.

Emma nudged his leg. "Come on, you can lay down after I get you all set up."

"The things I do for you," Killian grumbled, making Emma smile.

"I love you too," she said, grabbing the thermometer. "Here, put this under your tongue and it will beep when it's done." Killian looked suspicious but opened his mouth. Emma shoved the thermometer under his tongue, then pushed his chin up, closing his lips to seal in the thermometer.

While the thermometer was doing its job, Emma ran upstairs to their room, grabbing the big quilt and Killian's pillow off their bed. With the shape Killian was in he probably wouldn't want to drag his sick as up the stairs.

"Swan! This infernal contraption is yelling at me!"

"That means it's done!" Emma yelled back, hurrying down the stairs and into the living room where Killian was looking at the thermometer as if it were a bomb about to explode. To be honest he probably thought it was. It certainly made a sound like the bombs on Henry's video games.

Emma grabbed the offensive item from his hand and glanced at the little screen- 102.7. "Shit, Killian," Emma cursed under her breath. Killian caught it and gave her a horrified look.

"What do the numbers mean? Am I going to die?"

"You're not going to die," Emma answered, slightly exasperated before she managed to shove the frustration away. There was a reason she wasn't a nurse- Henry could confirm that. But, in her defense, it wasn't as if she ever really had anyone to show her how. "It just means you're running a temperature, which we have to get down." Emma grabbed two cold pills and the glass of water, tipping the medicine into his palm. "Here, this will decrease your fever and help with the aches and pains."

Killian popped the meds into his mouth and took a long pull of the cold water. At least he'd been exposed to that modern medicine creation so it was one less thing to try to force on him. When he'd swallowed Killian made a face, coughing lightly.

Despite her exasperation, how uncomfortable Killian was pulled at her heart. She had to remember, that even though he was several centuries older than her, he really had no memory of being sick. Killian wasn't used to aging, to getting sick and feeling sore. Waking up like this must have scared him. Emma felt guilty for not coming back at lunch to check on him, especially when Henry had been away all day.

Emma grabbed Killian's pillow, propping it behind his head. Using one hand she guided him back against it and with her other she pulled the blanket around his long frame. Emma leaned down and kissed his sweaty brow, feeling the slight shake of Killian's fever chills under her lips before setting the cool cloth on his forehead.

"Why are you putting that cold cloth on when I feel like I was the one trapped in Elsa's ice cave?"

"Because," Emma answered, sitting at his feet. Killian put his legs over hers, an automatic response that made Emma feel wanted. "You're running a fever. That's why you feel so chilled. I know it doesn't make sense but the cloth will help bring down your temperature and stop the cold feeling." Killian seemed satisfied with her answer, pushing himself farther down into the couch cushions.

"Can I have my Jell-O?"

"If it will make you feel better, yes you can." Emma peeled open the blue substance, stuck the spoon in and handed it over. While Killian started eating Emma grabbed one of his feet and started massaging them. Killian groaned in appreciation, a much better sound that his sick groans. If she could bring those sounds from him instead of having him feel sick she'd rub his feet all day. Emma smiled to herself. That was real love.

Killian ate in relative silence, the only sounds in the room the occasional deep grunt as Emma worked a knot out from his arch or a cough. When he finished his snack he set the container onto the floor and shut his eyes. Soon the coughs were replaced by light snores. Emma set down the foot she'd been working on and reached over, tucking him in tighter.

After a while, when she was sure Killian was asleep, Emma extricated herself from his legs and moved to the kitchen. Emma had been able to make Killian feel better enough to get him to sleep but she doubted her nursing skills any further if Killian were to get worse or needed something more than blue Jell-O. But there was one person who Emma knew could nurture better than anyone else. Emma grabbed her phone and quickly dialed her mother.

Mary Margaret showed up ten minutes later, arms laden with brown bags full of supplies. Emma hurried to take them so Mary Margaret could get off her outdoor gear without making enough noise to wake Killian up. Mary Margaret glanced into the living room before following Emma into the kitchen.

"So it's a cold?" she asked in hushed tones as Emma set down the bags and started unloading them.

"Yeah, his first cold that he can remember. It's hit him pretty hard." Emma pulled out cans of chicken stock, a box of noodles, several kinds of vegetables and some chicken breast all out of one bag. In the other was Jell-O (bless her mother), a box of popsicles that went straight into the freezer and a carton of orange juice.

"His first cold?" Mary Margaret replied, obviously confused. She pulled another bag from her purse, this one from the pharmacy and holding fever patches for Killian's forehead and cough drops. In just ten minutes Mary Margaret had gotten enough to ward off the plague in Emma's opinion. She couldn't imagine what Mary Margaret would have done had she had more warning or Killian would have been more serious.

"You don't age in Neverland and I guess three centuries of magic has finally worn off."

Mary Margaret seemed to pick up on Emma's feelings. "It's alright to age, Emma. That's natural."

Emma moved to cut up the carrots, hesitating to answer as she gathered her thoughts and decided if she wanted to let her mother in on how scared this made her. "Killian always said I didn't have to worry about him because he was a survivor. But I never realized until now that that was because of the magic that stopped him from aging. And now I'm terrified he's going to leave me." The words all came out faster and louder than Emma had planned. She paused, clapping a hand over her mouth and praying that Killian hadn't woken up and heard. The last thing she needed was him thinking he was going to die from the cold.

"Emma, honey," Mary Margaret said soothingly, moving to pull Emma into a hug. Emma let herself go with it because now that it was in the open it felt crushing. "Killian's a survivor because he's stubborn and clever and very experienced in life. Pan could have killed him countless times on Neverland and there are times after when he was off the island it could have happened too-"

"You're not helping," Emma murmured, pulling away to get the soup going. And to put some space between her mother and her.

"That's because you interrupted me," her mother answered, the diplomatic queen showing through in her tone. "I was going to say that Killian made it through all of that and he was fine. He did that when he had nothing more to live for than revenge. Now he has you, and Henry, and this life you're building together. He isn't going to give up now. Killian promised he'd protect your heart and now half of it is beating in his very own chest. I think you're underestimating him."

What her mother was saying was true. It wasn't just the magic that had kept him alive. Hell, he could have started aging months before and Emma hadn't noticed. Emma was aging, she got sick and moved on. Why didn't it seem the same for Killian? The answer was simple. Emma didn't particularly care what happened to herself herself but if she lost Killian, well, she might as well lose everything. "I don't want to lose him," Emma whispered, voice still cracking despite the soft tone, vocalizing her deepest fear again.

"You won't lose him," Mary Margaret answered, tone firm, as she poured chicken stock into the pot and turned the stove on. "Killian is still young in body, not much older than yourself. You both have years left. I watch David grow older and I see a life well lived. Any grey hairs that show up, any wrinkles that will grace his face in the years to come, they're all memories, of the good in the laugh lines, of the stressful in the grey. It's a blessing. Many don't get to see their loved ones grow old with them. The same will happen with you and Killian. And don't tell David, but just think how handsome Killian will be as a silver fox?" That made Emma laugh. Things had been tense at times with her mother but she was glad she'd called her over. Her mother was nurturing and had that everlasting hope that Emma needed in this situation.

"He will be pretty hot," Emma answered will a small smile.

Emma had always dreamed, in her most vulnerable moments, of having someone to grow old with. She could picture Killian and herself bundled up in the bed quilt, faded from years of use, sitting on a porch swing and watching the water. Maybe Henry would bring home his own kids and play with them in the front yard, and upstairs would be a growth chart of the kids she would have with Killian, never painted over despite them being grown and living on their own. It was the kind of future the house deserved. It was the kind of future Emma was finally starting to believe she deserved.

"So don't worry, okay, Emma? Killian will get over his cold and you guys will continue on with life and be happy. Nothing is guaranteed but that makes everything more sweet. I know you've been left before Emma, and I'd give anything to change that, but I am certain that Killian won't leave you. Of all people, you're safe letting him in. So why don't you come over here and let me teach you how to make cold-curing soup?"

Sometimes her mother frustrated her because Emma was not of the same bent when it came to life outlooks but today was different. With this topic her mother was facing the same thing. She'd been frozen for nearly thirty years, separated unknowingly from David and then had nearly lost him to Dreamshade. And now she was faced with aging with her husband as well. Mary Margaret was infinitely better adjusted but maybe once Emma was more confident with everything she could feel that way too. Or maybe not, best not count her chicks before they hatch. But at least she could aim for not panicking every time Killian got the sniffles.

Emma spent the afternoon learning to make chicken noodle soup from her mother, filling the house with a smell far better that what would have happened had Emma warmed up a can of soup in the microwave. Mary Margaret tried to get some info about the wedding out of Emma but after answering a few quick questions about scheduling Emma managed to divert the conversations by running off to check on a still sleeping Killian or ask a redundant question about the process of soup making. Eventually Mary Margaret caught on and they stayed on less overwhelming topics like how Henry was doing in school and Neal's recent forays into the world of teething.

Around four in the afternoon Killian started making a bit of noise, murmuring to himself as he woke up. When that happened Mary Margaret discretely slipped out the door and Emma ran for Killian. He gave her a sleepy smile when she crouched next to his head.

"Hello, beautiful."

"Hey," Emma replied as she ran a hand across his forehead. She smiled when she felt the fever had lessened by a few degrees. "How are you feeling?"

"Like Pan keelhauled me?"

"So not great?"

Killian caught the little catch in her voice and grabbed the hand against his forehead, squeezing tightly. "I'll be fine, love. Don't you worry."

"Do you want some soup? I'll get you some soup," Emma babbled before pulling away and hurrying into the kitchen. She could share her fears about Killian aging and getting sick to her mother but it felt too much to talk about to the person in question.

Soft footsteps padded into the kitchen. Emma turned to see Killian approach, quilt wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Of course Killian wouldn't let that little interaction go. Emma gave a little exasperated sound before moving to Killian and guiding him to the breakfast nook and settling him there.

"What's wrong, Swan?"

"Nothing," Emma answered, turning back to the stove and giving the soup a stir.

"We both know nothing usually means Marian has ruined Regina's happy ending or we messed up your parents first meeting so forgive me for not believing you, love. So why don't you tell me?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Emma."

Emma sighed. Killian wouldn't rest until Emma talked to him and she didn't really want to stress him out when he was sick. Emma filled two bowls with the warmed soup and brought them to the nook, sitting across from Killian.

"So what's bothering you, love?" Killian asked. He took a sip of the soup. "The soup's delicious so I know it's not your cooking skills that have got upset."

Emma took her own bite of the soup. It really was good. Thank goodness for her mother. "You getting sick scared me."

Killian was quiet for a few moments, mulling her statement over as he chewed some noodles. "You're scared you're going to lose me." It wasn't a question.

"You're no longer invincible." Emma's voice was dull. Killian set down his spoon and reached across the table, grabbing Emma's free hand.

"Love, I'm stronger now than I was before."

"Neverland's magic is gone," Emma replied, confused as to how he could be stronger.

"Yes, but now I've got your heart in my chest," he answered. "I'm going to fight even harder now to survive because I won't have your gift wasted." The statement rang with familiarity, reminding Emma of her mother's statement. Did everyone see Killian's determination but her? "This is just a cold, Swan. Like you said, I'll be buckling swash again in no time." Killian gave her a wry smile.

"My mother said you'd be handsome with grey hair," Emma blurted, overwhelmed by everyone's conviction of Killian's strength. Emma should know how strong he was better than anyone. She just had such a protected heart that it seized up every time there was any risk of her getting hurt.

"Of course she did," Killian answered, with a grin that screamed future trouble. Her mother was going to kill her for telling Killian that by the look on his face. "I'll be so much more handsome than Dave. But for now love, don't worry. I've still got my youthful glow."

Emma rolled her eyes. "How does nothing harm your ego?"

"Because nothing will make me less dashing," Killian answered around a cough. "But seriously, Swan, I'm going to grow old with you. No matter how many colds I get, we're going to get old and crotchety together and chase the neighbourhood kids off our yards with swords and guns."

"You've been watching too many Clint Eastwood movies." Joking helped Emma process.

Killian shrugged in response. Emma would need to remember to tell Henry to censor the movies he showed Killian. Maybe Henry could keep it to Disney for now. She didn't really want to come home to find Killian asking the paper boy if he was feeling lucky.

"We'll be fine, Emma. I'm sick and you'll probably get sick eventually and we'll take care of each other. It's how it goes. Growing old together will be our biggest adventure. So don't be scared, Swan. I'm not."

"I won't lose you?"

"You won't," Killian answered vehemently.

"Promise?" If it wasn't so childish she would have made him pinkie promise.

"I promise."

In true Killian style, the tone was one of such conviction that she couldn't disagree. Killian was always so sure of them and his ability to stay with Emma. Even with a voice muffled by congestion it was enough to reassure Emma. They would be okay, even when they were so old they couldn't climb the stairs anymore.

Emma pulled Killian's empty soup bowl from him and got up to put them in the sink. "Okay, let's get you to bed." She grabbed a Popsicle for him and gestured out the kitchen door.

"Can't I stay on the sofa? I like being where I can hear you."

"Okay, sofa it is." Emma helped Killian back to the living room, tucking the quilt around him. Killian only got through half his Popsicle before it was dripping down his hand, his grip slackened by the sleep that swept over him. It made him look so young, the Killian that would be there for everything in their life.

And when she came back from the store the next morning to find a still sick Killian and a very excited Henry piled together on the sofa playing video games, Killian shouting with a croaky voice about the thermometer bomb they trying to diffuse she was once again reassured. They might be getting older but that didn't mean they were old.


	12. The Closet

_A/N:_ It took a while to write this- my final undergrad semester just started so I've been busy getting into the university groove again and just got a chance to write it tonight. I know the title might seem a bit of a strange choice since most of this chapter takes place at Mary Margaret and David's but this is where Killian goes when he gets back to the cottage and the chapter revolves around clothing so I think it fits. I hope you all like it. I know I do. Thanks so much for all the support on this story. I appreciate it so much. Let me know what you think- it really helps me keep writing! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Planning for wedding was something Killian never thought he was going to have to do. With Milah it had been a possibility but after her death, well, Killian himself had been prepared to die himself with the Crocodile's death so the idea of finding someone to marry was out the door. But then Emma Swan pulled him from a pile of corpses and everything was different.

Killian wanted so desperately to marry Emma Swan that he was actually spending afternoons with his golden Swan and her mother, looking at invitation styles and table runners while trying to convince his fiancé not to throw everything out the window in a fit of stress. Who would have thought that Killian Jones could now tell the difference between eggshell and cotton? (Both of which if you asked anyone other than Snow White would tell you they were in fact white.) And even more surprising, he was actually enjoying himself.

But just because Killian was doing all this didn't mean he knew what he was doing. But he was good at pretending he did. Killian Jones was cocky. It was both well-earned from years of besting others on the sea as well as a survival mechanism. Killian Jones had to believe he was the best and show no weakness when he was staring down Peter Pan and his blasted Lost Boys, or when he was trying to convince Blackbeard to trade the bean for the Jolly. That whole process had never fazed Killian- that was until he went suit shopping.

The wedding, which was still over a month away, was a mash up of the Enchanted Forest, a wedding fit for a princess, and Storybrooke, meeting the desires of a modern and casual bride. There was to be traditional dancing and a proper proceeding, filled with tiaras and old words, but Granny's food would be served on long tables in the back yard of the cottage, onion rings being demanded by the bride and an open bar by the groom. That design had been a compromise between Emma and her mother. Though this mix left Killian a bit panicked when he took Henry to get fitted for his suit.

Henry knew he was wearing a modern suit, grey pants, jacket and vest with a white shirt. No one had questioned his choice because he was born into this world. He'd probably be one of the few in such garb, most requesting the town's seamstresses, Flora, Fauna and Merryweather, make them Enchanted Forest clothing. Killian had already seen David's outfit, deep blue silk embroidered with gold thread, a fine white shirt and taupe breaches. It was fit for a prince. Which was exactly what Dave was.

Mary Margaret was wearing a ball gown, the colour a lighter version of Dave's jacket with the same gold embroidery lining the skirts. The sleeves were puffed, the colour of silk to match her husband, showing through cuts in the lighter blue silk. The dress had been ordered practically the day the engagement had been announced and was now hanging in the loft, protected by a very large clear bag. It was just what Snow White should wear- a dress for a princess.

Killian hadn't seen Emma's dress but he knew a bit about it from listening to Mary Margaret and her talk. Emma wasn't wearing a traditional ball gown like Mary Margaret was. She'd opted for a more slender silhouette in an off-white, because as she'd told her mother "she sure as hell wasn't a virgin," following which her mother had choked on her blueberry tea. Emma had caved and allowed a long train though. Killian pictured the dress as the one she'd worn in Camelot, her beauty enough to steal his breath. The way he was picturing the dress- it was one fit for a beautiful and glowing bride.

And what was Killian to wear? None of the outfits he had worn before felt right. Nothing he had of this world was fancy enough. Since his time as the dark one, all in black and intimidating, Killian had been changing his clothing again. Now he went for softer materials, his flannel shirt a new favourite. But just because he looked the part didn't mean that he still didn't feel like a transplant in this world. His home was with Emma and he was overjoyed at that, but when she'd talk about something he'd never heard of or Henry tried to show him a new wired device it reminded him just how far he was from The Enchanted Forest.

His Enchanted Forest garb wasn't something he was comfortable with either. Not that he still had his naval jacket but how could he wear the uniform of a corrupt king- the very one who'd killed Liam? That man, practically boy, who'd worn that was naïve and obsessed with good form to the extreme. He would never touch rum. That boy was gone, dead at the same time Liam left him. The heavy leather of Captain Hook had no place on his wedding day. The outfit still sat in a closet on the Jolly Roger, but wearing the coat of a man who had murdered and hated and destroyed didn't sit right with Killian. That man was a villain. Emma believed Killian was a hero and he was really starting to believe that too. Captain Hook had no place at the alter.

Part of Killian wished he still had the outfit he'd worn when Emma and he had gone back into the past. It was the uniform of a gentleman and had been what he'd been wearing when Emma and he had first danced. But Killian hadn't been himself in that outfit, glamoured so no one would recognize him. When Killian held Emma's hand and told her 'I do' he wanted to look himself.

If he only knew who that was.

Confused and frustrated he still didn't have an outfit picked out for the day. Mary Margaret had asked him what he was wearing and he'd had to bumble and say he was just waiting to go get fitted. The look on her face had told him he'd been caught for the lie but she didn't push. Part of Killian wished she would. He was so scared of being a disappointment, inauthentic to Emma and himself, that it practically froze him whenever he'd go into the clothing store.

Sitting on the couch, six weeks from the wedding, Killian Jones was at a loss. Even though from the story book Killian knew Cinderella's fairy godmother was actually the Crocodile, part of him wished a real one existed and could poof him the right outfit.

His cell rang from the table beside the arm of the sofa. Killian leaned over, grabbing it. "Hello, love," he answered, just expecting it to be Emma calling from work.

"Try again," David's somewhat amused voice answered. Killian let his head fall back against the cushions and closed his eyes with a sigh. Of course he'd called his almost father-in-law _love._ It still felt odd to think of Dave as a father-in-law. Killian was centuries older and David looked like he was Emma's age. It was a strange family tree. Hell, it was a strange life in general.

"What can I do for you, _mate?_ "

"Come over."

"Why? I thought you were spending the day with your lovely wife?" Mary Margaret had requested David take the day off to help her with various wedding related needs which was why Emma had been called into work at the last minute.

"She's here," David answered in a tone that suggested she'd worked off his fingertips already. "Just come by, okay?"

"Sure. Be there in a few minutes. Shall I bring rum?"

The only answer was a long suffering chuckle before David clicked off. Killian pushed off the sofa, curious as to what Dave could want. Was he that bored? If this was Dave's attempt at getting him to help fill those little trinket bags for the guests he had another thing coming. Killian's hook would ruin them all.

It took about fifteen minutes for Killian to walk from the cottage to the loft. It sounded pretty quiet in the loft as he walked up the stairs so at least Mary Margaret hadn't worked herself into a wedding tornado. Maybe he would be safe. Killian knocked once then let himself into the flat.

"Killian!" Mary Margaret called, looking down from the loft. "Good to see you."

"And you, milady."

"Afternoon Killian," David nodded from the table. With his foot he pushed out the chair across from him. Killian raised an eyebrow. Were they finally going to give him the _talk?_

"Hello, Dave," Killian replied, sitting in the chair and leaning back. He tried to put on a casual face, trying to hide the fear starting to twist in him that Dave would have finally come to his senses and decided Killian wasn't good enough for his lovely daughter.

"Have you found your wedding suit?" David asked, a small smile pulling at his lips as if he knew something Killian didn't.

"No."

"Good." David got up, leaving Killian sitting there confused and very nervous. Was it good so he didn't have a suit now for no reason since he wouldn't be allowed to marry Emma?

David moved to the stairs where Mary Margaret met him with a big black garment bag before once again disappearing upstairs and leaving them alone. The bag was laid across the table but David didn't open it. Killian glanced between the bag and Dave. Either Emma's parents had a plan for what he was to wear at the alter or that was what they were going to hide his corpse in to stop the wedding.

"I was wondering if we could have a talk, Killian."

"Am I to assume the role of son-in-law for this?" They straddled a strange line, between best mates and in-laws, so the question wasn't really out of the blue.

"No. I was thinking more of Enchanted Forest."

"Arrrg?" Killian blurted in nervousness, scratching at the back of his neck. Did they really have to rehash his pirating days?

David rolled his eyes. "Not quite."

"I know you've got a long history in the Enchanted Forest. I also know it's not great. When I met you I saw you as only a villain, even though you had a very noble role as a young man. And now you're a hero. There's a conflict there. I know you probably don't want anyone to know but I see how you fight to reconcile everything. It's my guess that that's why you've not bought a suit for the wedding yet." David paused, giving Killian a small smile when he noticed the astonished look on the other man's face. "I've seen how you look at Mary Margaret's gown and my jacket. Mary Margaret and I have not always been royals but we're confident in our roles as prince and princess so it made the choices easy." David's fingers went to the garment bag and Killian started to think that maybe it wasn't a body bag in disguise. Maybe it was just what he'd been wishing for earlier. He stayed quiet though, letting David say his piece.

"I've been wanting to talk to you about something for a while, since the Dark One fiasco if I'm being honest. But I was never sure how to bring it up without you thinking I was trying to change you. I know I've not always been on board with Captain Hook but I don't want to change you. Even if I wanted to try Emma would have my head." David grasped the zipper of the bag but didn't pull it open yet. Killian's fingers twitched, itching to open it himself and see what David was being so long-winded about. "Jones, I know you've sailed under a corrupt king and that's why you quit the navy. I don't blame you. But it's come to my attention that you're not quite as concrete in your role as pirate anymore either. So I wanted to make an offer. I know we're living in Storybrooke now but I don't think I've ever been a corrupt king. And Mary Margaret certainly isn't. She's Snow White after all so I'm not worried about her either. You're a hell of a captain, Killian and if we were in the Enchanted Forest I know I'd do this. You needing an outfit for the wedding was the push I needed to finally ask you in this world."

David pulled down the top of the garment bag and removed a stiff navy coat with a high collar and shining brass buttons. It was made of thick cotton, a tiny weave to make it richer. One of the sleeves was wider, an alteration to fit his hook. Killian immediately recognized it despite its differences from the one he was used to. _A Naval Uniform._ Where the epaulets on Killian's old coat were gold, these were red. The waistcoat was also red instead of the white of Killian's original kingdom. But perhaps the biggest difference, the one that made his heart lurch, was the decorations on the epaulets. They were those of a Captain, a near match to Liam's save for the colour.

Killian looked up a David at a loss. "It's the coat of a captain in my Navy. I know we don't have much use for a Navy here but if we did you deserve to be its captain. Plus you already have the ship," David quipped, grinning now that he had finished.

"Liam was my Captain," Killian murmured, running his fingers across the epaulets, remembering how proud Liam had been to be awarded them. Killian had lived his life trying to be that man Liam was and had, in his opinion, failed miserably. He was only starting to attempt to reach the level of goodness Liam had.

"I know. But you deserve to be a naval captain too if you wish it. You're good and noble, Killian. I know your brother isn't around to tell you that but he'd think the same thing. Remember- you said we were cut from the same cloth- so I should know."

Killian smirked at that before sobering again. Could he return to the navy after throwing his uniform over the side of the ship nearly three centuries previous? Would that be disrespecting Liam? Killian had done so many awful things, taken so many navy ships and slaughtered crews. David knew a lot of that and yet here he was offering Killian a spot as Captain in his own Navy. When Killian had sailed under the King, David's great grandfather hadn't even been a thought in his father's mind. Killian's old king and David were two totally different people. David, Killian knew, would never order his navy to collect Nightshade, especially labelling it as medicine, because David was right- he and Liam were cut from the same cloth. "You're the only king I'd sail under. Thank you, Dave. Or should I call you Prince James?"

"David will do," he answered, pleased at Killian's agreeance to the new role.

"What about my part?" Mary Margaret shouted from the balcony, a warm smile on her face.

David smiled back indulgently before pulling down the rest of the garment bag zipper and revealing the pants. They were not the white pants of Killian's old Navy uniform. They were new black leather pants, a similar style to the tailored jeans he'd worn after ditching his leather uniform yet a clear nod to his pirating days.

"After the uniform was ordered I was talking to Mary Margaret and telling her that giving you the standard uniform didn't feel right. She brought up the fact that Emma fell in love with you when you were still in your pirate garb. I know those were reminders of dark days, but you are a pirate. That's part of you whether we originally liked it or not. Just like your past as a naval officer. So we changed the order and got you new leather pants." David pushed the coat and pants closer to Killian. "Are you alright wearing this to the wedding?" Killian nodded, trying to show just how appreciative he was in his smile.

If that didn't work, Killian hoped David would understand as the prince watched Kilian pull the old leather crest from Liam's sextant from his jacket before slipping it into the uniform pocket. Just like Liam's ring Killian had carried the sextant crest as a reminder. Killian had given Liam's larger ring to Emma as an engagement ring and Henry Liam's original ring so he no longer carried them around. And now the beaten piece of leather was leaving his coat pocket for the first time since he'd pulled it off the sextant case. It wasn't as if he was getting rid of Liam's memory. Having Emma and Henry wear his brother's rings felt like Liam's memory was getting stronger because other people were carrying it around with them too. And by giving Liam's crest a place in his new Naval uniform it felt like Liam was also with a proper King. Killian still kept everything with him in memory but it felt good to expand it to other hearts as well.

"Let's not tell Emma, yeah?" Killian asked after a moment, continuing to run his hand across the outfit. It was the naval officer, the pirate, and in the design of David's kingdom, just like the clothes had been when he went into the past. It was what he'd been trying to figure out. It was Killian Jones.

"She's going to love it," Mary Margaret put in.

David scowled a bit, returning to the role of father. "Not too much, I hope."

Killian chuckled, standing. "I should get this home and hidden before Emma gets home." David put the clothing back in the garment bag and handed it over.

"Tell Emma to come back tonight so we can fill favours," Mary Margaret called out, displaying one of those little muslin bags.

"And bring the rum this time."

Killian walked home, holding the bag tight against his chest. He was scared the wind would get to it, that it was some dream that would turn to dust at the slightest movement. Once back at the empty cottage Killian hurried up the stairs. There was a closet in the spare bedroom, left empty because they hadn't done anything to it yet. Killian wanted Emma to be surprised, to see the man at the end of the isle that was a product of a long and hard life, brought all together by her golden light. It was a small present, a symbol of all their love had come through to land at the little cottage on Albatross Lane. He laid it gently on the top shelf in the closet, pushing it towards the back.

This gift David had given him was surreal. Killian had often felt Liam with him, looking with disgust over his shoulder at the mess Killian had let himself become. But walking down the ocean sided street he could almost sense Liam swelling with pride, his chest puffing out at his little brother just like he'd done when Killian had become a lieutenant. Liam had always thought Killian would climb the ranks to be a captain. When Liam had been alive Killian refused, wanting to only ever sail with his brother and then he'd become a pirate. Once that had happened Killian had pushed his brother's desire away, too ashamed and too hell-bent on revenge to return to what Liam had wanted for him. Several centuries later, years of pain and blood and anger, and things had come full circle. He was the pirate captain of Prince James's Navy now.


	13. The Backyard

_A/N:_ Sorry for the delay in getting this up. All I can say is just- _life happened._ Anyways, I've got three more chapters coming after this one. The next one (titled The Mudroom) is already half way written so I'll try to finish it this weekend. There are also two and a half chapters already written for my next AU (that I'm super excited about) titled In The Key of G but it won't go up until this story is finished. I hope you all like this one. I appreciate all the support I've recieved for this story! It means so much to me. Let me know what you think of this one! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Emma hadn't exactly been waiting her whole life for this day. She'd spent her first few years of life dreaming for a prince to come and rescue her from the system. The next ten or so years had been jaded and closed off so she had no plans for a future other than where she would find her next meal or bed. After that came Neal. Emma had thought they'd settle down from the Bonny and Clyde lifestyle and get married, start a family down in Tallahassee but she'd never been more wrong in her life in thinking that. All plans for a marriage, all plans for a man after that had been washed down the drain. If she couldn't even have handled her little boy she certainly had no place in her life for a full grown one. Emma Swan didn't need a man. Sure there where blips, Graham, Walsh and her one night stands when the itch got too strong to handle on her own but Emma knew she'd never wear a white dress down the aisle or settle down beyond having her own place with a bedroom for Henry. That was until she met Killian Jones.

Emma shook her head, sitting down on her bed. The house was fairly quiet for all the people on the property. Mary Margaret had everyone in the backyard putting on the final touches for the wedding that was to occur in a little under two hours. All the dwarves had arrived earlier, driving over piles of white chairs, and were now setting up rows and rows of them in the backyard. Granny would be arriving soon with food for the guests. Emma didn't know why she'd pushed so hard for the onion rings for the reception now. There was no way she could eat with all the butterflies claiming her stomach as their new home.

Emma was supposed to be getting ready so her mother could help her put on her dress once she was finished playing wedding planner. It was why she'd been sent upstairs to the bedroom she'd occupied alone the previous night. Killian had spent the night on the Jolly, as per tradition, and was still there now getting ready with David and Henry. But she wasn't getting ready. Not yet. That white garment bag hanging from the closet door was overwhelming her. Emma didn't have cold feet but that didn't mean she wasn't panicking. Everything about this wedding was so overwhelming. Killian had always calmed her, reminding her that Mary Margaret was doing this because she had missed Emma growing up, and as royals that meant missing many large parties. She wanted Killian with her now, not in two hours and separated by a flower covered aisle.

It wasn't easy for Emma to open up and let herself love. But she loved Killian. More than she ever thought possible. And lucky for her, he felt the same. She still couldn't understand it. She was still sometimes scared that if she thought too hard it would all come to pieces. But then she'd remind herself that she and Killian had fought too hard to get where they were to give it all up.

Feet pattered up the stairs. Emma glanced at the clock on Killian's side of the bed. _Shit,_ she'd been musing for over a half an hour and this was Mary Margaret come to murder her for not starting her makeup.

The familiar black haired head of her mother came into view and Emma hopped up, feeling like a kid who'd forgotten to take the chicken out to thaw. Mary Margaret propped her hands on her hops and regarded Emma.

"Oh, Emma."

Emma cringed, unprepared for the soft tone her mother used. She'd been ready to hear a lecture like Mary Margaret had given when the chairs in the backyard were organized wrong. "Sorry," Emma said hurriedly.

Mary Margaret shook her head. "It's fine, don't worry. We can get ready in time. What's been on your mind?"

Emma shrugged. Normally she would say nothing and hurry out of the room after flinging some flimsy excuse at her mother. But Emma wasn't that person, especially today. Today her father- her _father_ \- was going to walk her down the aisle and she was going to marry Captain Hook. Today she could tell the truth.

"It's just a little surreal, that's all. Actually," Emma replied with a dry laugh, "it's a whole lot surreal."

"It's alright to be afraid," Mary Margaret replied, taking her hand and pulling her into the bathroom where all Emma's makeup had been spread across the vanity, supplemented by Mary Margaret's own collection.

"But I'm not afraid of getting married. I think I'm afraid that I'm not afraid?" Emma let Mary Margaret sit her on the closed toilet seat.

Her mother nodded as she spread some foundation on the back of her head. "You've let Killian in. After the life you've had it's alright to be scared about that. I'm so proud of you Emma, for pushing past no matter what. You may not have the happy ending I predicted when I decorated your nursery but I'm so happy you found what you did." Mary Margaret blinked away tears. Emma glanced down at her own hands, suddenly overcome with emotion herself.

"Don't cry already," Emma murmured, volume stolen by the lump in her throat.

"What would make you feel better?" Mary Margaret asked after a moment, voice once again clear of emotion.

There was only one thing, one person, which could make her feel better. And that was the one person who was potentially more excited than Mary Margaret for the wedding.

"Talking to Killian?"

Mary Margaret produced her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and handed it over. "You have ten minutes before I come back in and make you the blushing bride I know is inside of you." With that she swept out of the room, shutting the bathroom door behind her.

Emma immediately dialed the familiar number, fingers shaking in her haste. The previous night had been the only one they'd spent apart since their stint as dark ones so she was anxious to hear his voice. She held the phone up to her ear and waited.

Killian picked up on the first ring. "I promise I'll be there on time, milady. And your husband has the ring to give to Henry so don't worry."

"It's me," Emma replied, a bit breathless at the sound of her soon to be husband's voice.

 _"Emma."_ Killian sounded equally as affected. "To what do I owe the pleasure, my darling?"

"I'm a little overwhelmed."

Killian gave a soft chuckle. "Aye, as am I. But it's a good overwhelmed, right?"

Emma nodded to herself. "If you would have told five year old Emma she'd be marrying Captain Hook she would have had a coronary."

"If I knew five year old you she would never have been left in such a place."

Tears once again sprang to Emma's eyes at the sound of the conviction in his voice. She blinked them back, breathing in. If this was how she was at a simple phone call she'd be a wreak when Killian read the vows he insisted he write.

"You still with me, love?" Killian asked after a long moment of silence.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Good. Everything's going to be fine, Swan. In a little while I'm going to see you, the loveliest bride in all the realms and I'm going to make sure everyone knows just how lucky a bastard I am to be marrying you. I can't wait to see your dress."

"I can't wait to see whatever you've been hiding in the closet."

"You knew?" Killian asked, momentarily caught off guard.

"Of course. Where do you think I wanted to hide my wedding dress?" Emma laughed, thinking of the day she'd brought it home from Mary Margaret's house, only to find a large garment bag in the place she wanted to leave hers. "And don't worry," she quickly added, answering his question before it could be asked. "I didn't look."

"Good," Killian replied again with a relieved breath. "So are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. I'll see you soon?"

"Without a doubt. I love you."

"Love you too," Emma whispered back, the butterflies finally settling into an excitement. She was going to marry Killian Jones- the sailor, the soon-to-be-stepfather, the pirate, the lover, the kind, gentle, hardened and handsome soul. Soon she was going to be Mrs. Jones. Emma felt like she had right before her first date with Killian, only magnified by about one thousand.

Emma set the phone on the counter, after ending the call. "I'm done," Emma called. Mary Margaret immediately entered the room.

"Feeling better?" she asked though from the tone she could already see the answer on her face.

"Much."

"I guess that means we need to get you ready." Mary Margaret dipped a brush into the foundation that was still sitting on the back of her hand and started brushing it onto Emma's skin.

Emma sat still as her mother buzzed around, painting her face into the type of glowing bride one would find in a magazine. Emma let her have her moment. To Emma the dress mattered more and Killian would hardly care which shade of gloss was covering her lips so long as he got to kiss her.

It wasn't as if Emma didn't care what she looked like because she did. But when Emma packed on the makeup it was because she'd been working as a bail bonds person and going on a honey trap. And what person would deny _Snow White_ doing her wedding makeup? It made Emma smile when she thought of her mother like that. The fairest of them all was currently putting mascara on her.

"Now what should we do about your hair?" Mary Margaret asked after putting down a tube of pinky-nude liquid lipstick.

"Maybe up to hold the tiara?" Emma suggested, running her fingers through the blonde locks. They'd agreed Emma would wear her crown, no matter what her chosen dress looked like. "But loose," she added quickly, fearing for a moment a harsh bun. Emma had spent her whole life being harsh. Nothing about this day should be hard and severe.

"I can do that." Mary Margaret motioned for Emma to turn around, face the wall and straddle the toilet seat so she could get to the back of her hair. From Mary Margaret's own makeup bag she produced a new pack of bobby pins.

"Will you still have time to do your own makeup now that I've held you up?" Emma asked after glancing at the mirror. They were under an hour to the wedding.

"Doesn't matter. I didn't think I'd ever get this chance. Thank you for humouring me with this wedding."

"You humoured me too."

"You're the bride," Mary Margaret answered with a laugh. "That's the rule."

"Well," Emma started, playing with a bobby pin that had fallen, "to be fair, I didn't think I'd ever get this either. And not just the wedding. You too." It was why Emma was so anxious to let her mother have this as well. There was still a bit of the lost girl inside of her that was scared her mother would think she was selfish if she didn't, that she wouldn't want Emma anymore. It was irrational but that was Lost Girl Emma.

"Emma," Mary Margaret breathed, leaning down to kiss the crown of her head. It was still an odd feeling but one she'd gotten more used to in the last few months. Mary Margaret had been trying harder to be a better mother and Emma had been trying just as hard to be a good daughter.

"Where's the tiara?"

"The little box on the top shelf of the closet," Emma answered, running a gentle hand across the twist that Mary Margaret had created. Mary Margaret swatted her hand away before dousing her with hair spray. Emma coughed at the scent while her mother disappeared to get the jewellery.

"Sure, leave me in here with the poisonous cloud," she grumbled.

"You've survived being the dark one. I think you'll be fine," her mother answered, coming back in the room.

Mary Margaret fixed the tiara to her head, tucking the ends into the twisted hair behind her ears. To Emma it felt like a long chignon, twisted like one you did with a headband but instead held up by a thousand bobby pins, hairspray and Snow White's conviction.

"Dress first, then you can see," her mother answered, dragging her into the bedroom. "Undress."

Emma snorted at that but did as she was bid, reminding herself that people rarely got into wedding dresses unaided. She allowed Mary Margaret to grab the dress and bring it over, undoing the row of thirty buttons down the back. Part of Emma delighted in the slow torture they would cause Killian later. Killian was good at buttons, just not very fast.

Emma stepped into the dress and pulled it up, slipping her arms into the straps. To save her mother time, feeling a bit guilty that Mary Margaret would be short on time getting ready, she flicked her wrist and the buttons did themselves up.

"Well that was easy," Mary Margaret answered with a laugh, stepping back. Emma stepped into her heels and turned to the floor length mirror Mary Margaret had set up.

The dress was a cream silk shift. The square neckline showed off her toned arms and the straight skirt emphasized her thin frame. There was a slight nipping in at the waist but it was plain other than that. The hem of the front of the dress dusted the floor when she had her heels on but the back flared outwards in a small train. It was the sleekness and casualness of the dress that had drawn Emma to it and when she'd put it on she'd immediately understood all those corny wedding shows. Her hair was pulled back as Emma had predicted, her silver and lavender tiara nestled on top, shining after David had polished it several nights previous. She'd opted for no veil, thinking it would be overkill with the tiara. Nothing about the makeup was off, all perfect. Emma felt her eyes well up to which Mary Margaret immediately smacked her arm.

"No ruining the makeup until the vows," she ordered, crying herself.

"Then stop making me," Emma retorted, blinking back the tears and drawing in a deep, calming breath. Emma Swan didn't cry like this and here was her wedding, turning her into a veritable waterfall. "Go get ready!"

Mary Margaret gave a nod and moved to the bathroom, where her own garment bag hung off the shower rod, leaving Emma in front of the mirror. Emma examined herself, running her palms lightly down her skirt. She looked like a bride. And it was weird. But also filled her with pride. All those people who'd tried to bring her down all her life, all the people who'd tried to kill her since assuming the role of Saviour- she'd proved them all wrong. She was worth it and she was strong. _And she was getting married._ A shot of giddy excitement bolted through her.

Heavy footsteps came up the stairs. Emma peeked out the door and watched her father make her way towards her. Emma stepped back from the doorway so David could get a good look at her. When he reached the door he stopped.

"Oh, Emma. You look beautiful sweetheart." Emma blushed at her father's compliment.

"Not too shabby yourself," she replied, motioning to David's formal attire. In it David looked nothing less than Prince Charming in his blue silken jacket and light trousers, leather boots up to his knees. David came closer and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"I've just come to make sure you were both going to be ready to walk down the aisle in twenty minutes?"

Emma nodded. "What about you? Ready to take me?"

"An entire realm couldn't hold me back," David answered, emotion breaking through. Emma looked at the ceiling to stop her own emotions from flaring again. What about this wedding was making everybody turn into a bunch of saps?

"I've got something for you, Emma." Emma cocked her head, watching, curious. "So you have something new in your dress and old in your tiara-"

"Are you calling me old?" Mary Margaret demanded from the bathroom. David balked.

"Of course not, Snow. Just going through the traditions." He gave an awkward cringe to Emma before clearing his throat. "So you needed two more things- something borrowed and something blue. I've got those now, if you don't mind?"

Emma nodded, waiting to see what her father had brought. David produced a hair comb first, the silver of it inlaid with blue stones. Emma took it, turning it over in her hands with wonder. It was beautiful, heavy with the weight of real gems.

"Where did you get it?" Emma asked, handing it back to David so he could tuck it into the back of her bun.

"I have my sources. It's a gift, so you have something beautiful to remember the day I walked you down the aisle."

"Thank you. And what else?" she added on, eager to keep going before she was hit with another wave of tears.

"This is from your fiancé. Something borrowed." David produced the leather sigil Emma had seen Killian carrying around before tied to a silk ribbon, the colour of the lavender jewels in her tiara. It was Liam's. "Killian said if you wouldn't mind, he'd really like you to tie it to your bouquet for the night. Killian said if you didn't want to that was fine because you already wear Liam's ring but he'd heard of the tradition and thought borrowing and carrying a piece of his brother's memory with you wouldn't be so bad."

Emma nodded, running her fingers across the soft leather. "Of course. I'll tie it on when we get downstairs." Now she had something new that was hers in her chosen dress, something old that had been her mothers, a blue comb from her father and something borrowed from her fiancé (which was also very old but she liked the idea of everyone having a part). Everyone in that quartet had pulled Emma out of her shell and now she would carry everyone on the day to mark her transformation from scared of love to revelling in it.

"How is my fiancé?" Emma asked, wishing she could see the backyard from her bedroom.

"Anxious to see you," David answered. "He's already at the altar. Didn't want to be late. Good form and all." Emma snorted out a laugh at that just as Mary Margaret came out of the bathroom, wearing a light blue silk ball gown and her own tiara. She was epitome of the Snow White of lore and it stunned Emma. David immediately crossed the room to her, kissing her. Emma had to shake her head, watching her parents, Snow White and Prince Charming together. "You look beautiful," David whispered. Longing crept through Emma. She couldn't wait to have that herself, even though the thought of a relationship lasting as long as her parents had scared her a bit. Her parents broke apart and turned back to her.

"Ready Emma?" Mary Margaret asked, reaching out to take her hand.

"Yeah, let's go. I've got a groom to see."

David led the way down the stairs and into the kitchen. The counters were covered in food to be put out after the reception. Emma fought the urge to look out the window to see Killian. She wanted to wait until she was at the end of the aisle, a true first look. Mary Margaret grabbed Emma's bouquet, an arrangement of wildflowers, ones she couldn't understand but enjoyed the smell of. Her mother held the flowers while Emma secured the sigil.

Emma took the bouquet, arranging it in her hands so the sigil hung over her fingers. She stood up straight and looked towards her parents. "Do I look like a bride?" They both just nodded, David pulling Mary Margaret to his side. Outside the music started.

"Oh, um, I guess that's my cue." The marriage dirge, a traditional element selected by her parents, made it feel real. This was the moment that started it all. Killian and Henry would be up at alter waiting for her. All the guests would stand and watch her come down the grassy aisle on her father's arm.

"No panicking," Mary Margaret said quickly, breaking her from her thoughts. Emma drew in a deep breath. "I'll talk to you later." She kissed Emma's cheek then hurried outside to get her seat.

David offered his arm and Emma slipped her hand through. "Ready?"

"Ready."

David led Emma through the mudroom and out the back door. They stopped just outside, watching everyone stand when they realized Emma had appeared. Emma took a moment to watch the movement. The backyard had been manicured, the grass cut the day before and pots with wildflowers set around the space. Half the town was there, all standing in front of white chairs with lavender ribbon tied across the back. Most were dressed in Enchanted Forest garb, large dresses and rich fabric. The aisle had been covered in more petals, sickeningly sweet but lovingly done by her mother. At the end of the aisle was an arbour, decorated in the purple ribbon and chosen flowers, Regina standing in the center. They're chosen to have her conduct the ceremony as a royal because her parents wanted to watch instead of do it herself.

Just off to the side, next to her dapperly dressed son, stood the man she was waiting to see. Killian Jones was dressed as a naval officer but was wearing his leather pants. Where had he gotten that outfit? It wasn't a usual uniform, but it was perfect. His hair was well groomed, slicked back and clean. The beard Emma so loved was still there though, despite his classically groomed appearance. Emma felt her jaw drop. That man was so handsome. Watching him, it made her wonder how she'd been able to look at the yard first. Everything centered in on him when she spotted him and it was only her father's arm on her own that stopped her from sprinting down the aisle towards her soon-to-be husband.

But her reaction seemed to match Killian's. That well shaped jaw had dropped and his tongue was peeking out over his lips, running a sinful path across the flesh seemingly unconsciously. His eyes had widened but even from the back door Emma could see the red in them. His hand crept up to scratch behind his ear before using it to clear his through into. The sight of her Killian crying busted through her emotional control and the tears started welling. She didn't even attempt to hold them back as David started down the aisle with her.

That walk down the thirty foot long aisle was longer than any she'd done before. She tried to enjoy it, relish in the fact that her father was walking her down the aisle. It was everything she'd ever wanted but all she wanted now was to reach Killian. Cameras flashed as they walked, but she never blinked from her staring contest with Killian. She probably looked possessed in any pictures the guests took but she couldn't find it in herself to care.

Finally they reached the end of the aisle and they stopped. David's grip on Emma's arm seemed to tighten, as if he didn't want to let her go. It swept through her for the thousandth time then that she had someone to give her away, someone who didn't want to because she was his little girl. Killian was waiting though, having stepped forward to the place they were to meet to say their vows.

"Dad, I need to get on with this," Emma whispered, leaning into his ear.

"You look after her Killian," David growled, hesitating once more before releasing Emma's arm. Emma kissed his cheek before hurrying the last few steps to Killian and passing off her bouquet to Henry, the person they'd chosen to stand for them both.

They reached for each other at the same time. Emma caught Killian's hand and hook in her hands. His hand was sweaty. That made her grin. She must be looking pretty good if she could make Captain Hook sweat. Killian leaned forward, looking to kiss her.

"Killian. Keep it in your pants," Regina snapped good-naturedly. Killian immediately pulled back pouting.

"Soon," Emma whispered, giving his hand a squeeze. They would have plenty of time to make out after the service. Regina cleared her throat to catch their attention.

"People of Storybrooke, we are gathered here today to witness the marriage of Emma Swan, Crown Princess of the Enchanted Forest, and Killian Jones, Captain of Prince James's Navy." Emma raised her eyebrow at that, making a show of looking Killian up and down. That explained the uniform, and why Killian glowed with pride when his title was announced. She'd have to thank her father for that later.

"These two have chosen to spend the rest of their lives together and today marks that start. They will say the vows they have chosen to write themselves and then we will proceed with a fisherman's knot tying ceremony to honour Killian's history. Emma, Killian, are you ready?" Both nodded.

"We will start with the vows because you two would be far better able to explain this love you have than I do. It is a love that I hope everyone here can experience and I will only say this once, but it is one that I myself have been envious of. Killian, would you like to recite yours first?"

"Yes, milady," he answered before turning back to Emma. Nothing could make her look away from those ocean deep eyes, not even if all the villains in the world showed up at once. Killian gave her hand a squeeze.

"Emma, my love, I was a terrible man for many years. After the loss of my brother and my first love I sailed the seas for hundreds of years, murdering and pillaging and drinking. But never once did I feel like I was whole, or that I found a place. I was desperate for an impossible revenge. Beyond anything I just knew I had to keep surviving. I realize now why I had to. Because there was a plan for me and that plan involved a glowing goddess pulling me from a pile of bodies in the Enchanted Forest. If you're wondering, that was you, love. It may not have been love at first sight for you but I'd never been more enamoured by a person. And then when we kissed in Neverland? Well I knew then that there would never be anyone else for me. You fought and you ran and we were torn apart by curses and the darkness and fear. But you also allowed me to fight for you and become a hero. You fighting for me in turn, after everything in your past, was so very brave and I still don't know what I did to deserve you, but I am oh, so, thankful. I promise to love you until my dying breath and even after that, since I think we both know I don't stay dead easily." Emma gave a wet laugh.

"Thank you for that."

"No interrupting. You'll get your turn," he answered, cheekily, despite his own tears. "As I was saying, I promise to love you. You will never be more cherished than in the time you spend with me. I've been a pirate for hundreds of years but never have I felt more protective of treasure than I feel of you. You've pulled me back from the darkness, multiple times, and I promise to show you how thankful I am of that. You've given me half of your own heart and I will protect it with everything I have. Should you ever struggle, my love, I will struggle with you. I will fight for you. I will win. I love you."

"I love you too," Emma answered, tears tracking down her cheeks.

"Emma? Would you like to say your vows now?" Regina asked, trying very hard to maintain her cool exterior.

Emma nodded, taking a moment to breathe and find her voice. "Killian. Never have I met a more stubborn person and you've met my family so that's saying something."

"I've also met you."

Emma rolled her eyes. "No interrupting," she returned with a grin. "Yes, you've also met me. I'm a terribly fast runner. But you're faster. I'm an amazing wall builder but you're an even better demolisher. I'm great at getting scared. But you're the most comforting presence I've ever met. I thought when the curse broke, that getting my family was all I ever needed. I had my son and my parents and for a girl who grew up thinking she was an orphan that was huge. So huge I even ran from them a hundred times. But then I went back to the past with you and realized that it was okay to let someone else in. And now I know I have more than I'll ever need. We fought the darkness together and won. So, I'll make you some promises now too. I promise that if I ever run I'll come right back. I promise to never build walls higher than you can step over. I promise that when I wake scared at night I'll wake you too. I promise to protect you and trust you both with the heart that beats in my own chest and in yours. I promise to love you, more and more each day."

"I love you too."

"Excellent." Regina gave a nod. "Now time for the rest of the vows. Killian, do you take Emma to be your wife?"

"I do," he answered, voice breaking, nodding furiously.

"Emma, do you take Killian to be your husband?"

"I do," she whispered back, the lump in her throat stealing her volume once again.

"Killian, can you please get the ring and repeat after me?" Henry hurried over and slipped a wedding band into Killian's hand. It was gold with small hooks engraved across it. He also slid one into Emma's, a larger matching one, though engraved with swans instead of hooks. Regina nodded with a smile at her son who was trying valiantly not to cry. "Emma, with this ring, I the wed."

"Emma, with this ring, I the wed." Killian slid the ring onto her finger. She couldn't tell which one of them was shaking harder.

"Now it's your time, Emma." Emma nodded. "Killian, with this ring, I the wed."

"Killian, with this ring, I the wed." Emma slid the ring onto Killian's hand, noticing then that he wore no other rings. It shone in the sun, glinting up at her. It didn't matter what hand Killian wore it on, as Emma had told him at the jewellery store when he was agonizing over the tradition. All that mattered to Emma was that he had one.

"Now, traditionally they would kiss now but I'm afraid if they start now we'll never finish the ceremony." Emma snorted at Regina's quip because the way Killian was now staring at her lips meant that was probably true. "We will now do a short hand fasting ceremony to tie this family together. Henry, can you now please bring the rope forward?"

Henry hurried over between them after setting down Emma's flowers and produced a length of rope from The Jolly Roger. Henry held the rope up, waiting for instructions. Regina gazed fondly at her son for a moment before starting again.

"Henry, you belong to two families. You have brought us all together as the Heart of the Truest Believer and now the Author. We all thank you for it. This ceremony will now be a representation of your connection to Emma and Killian, shown through their love for you and Killian's seafaring history.

"Emma, please drape the rope over your son's wrist." Emma grabbed the rope and hung an end over Henry's outstretched hand then kissed Henry's cheek. "Killian, please drape the rope over your stepson's wrist." Killian followed Emma's movements before using his skills to finish the knot with a few select tucks. Both of them now held parts of the rope, looping it through their wrists, while the ends were woven into a knot around Henry's hand. "This knot represents the joining of this family. May it be successful and loving. This knot, thanks to Killian, is the kind that only tightens when pressure is put on it. Let it remind you that when you fight your love for each other will not come undone. It will only make you stronger." Regina gave them a moment to sit with the knot. Killian was no longer staring at Emma but at Henry with this awe in his eyes. It warmed Emma. She knew she'd made the right decision for herself in marrying Killian but this showed her that it was the right decision for her son as well.

"Henry, you may want to let go for this part," she added quickly before concentrating again on the couple. Henry dropped the rope, knowing what was coming and hurried away with that little disgusted look the teenager had perfected when watching any of his parents kissing. Emma once again found herself laughing. "Killian, you may now kiss your bride."

Killian's kiss cut Emma's laughs of. The force of it pushed her backwards but he caught her, like he always would. What followed was a meeting of lips and tongues and teeth and tears. Emma's own hands went up to his face, running her fingers through his gelled hair and messing it up just the way she liked it. Killian moaned in response, a hint of what was to come for them that night.

A cheer went up from the audience, broken only by David's pointed coughing, finally breaking them apart. Emma and Killian turned to their guests.

"Storybrooke, it is my great honour to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Killian Jones."


	14. The Shelter

_A/N:_ Two more after this! One's written and the other's half done ish. Life's so busy but I'll have time next week to finish up the story and then post the rest. I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter- I just couldn't make it what I want. I'm really pleased with the one coming next though, so please don't give up on me. I'm not going to tell you what it's called because that would spoil it. Any guesses of what it is? Thanks for all your support on this! I really appreciate every favourite, follow, view and review. Enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Being married to Emma Jones was the best thing that had ever happened to Killian. Killian used to dread the future but now he couldn't wait. When he went to bed he couldn't wait to wake up and see Emma beside her, her hair sleep mussed and voice husky. After being apart for work the whole day he'd practically run up the street after he was finished at the harbour to make sure he was sitting on the deck when Emma got back from the sheriff station. And that first day she'd gotten a new driver's license listing her officially as Emma Jones? Well that had been nearly as good as the wedding.

Emma had pulled Killian to the couch the day after the wedding and told him that she officially wanted to be Emma Jones. She'd been nervous and hesitant which had led Killian to promising her he didn't care and a lot of stumbling over words for both of them. Neither of them were great at asking for family. Killian hadn't wanted to assume before the marriage that she would change her name, mainly because he could never imagine her being anything other than his Swan. But for Emma, Swan was the name of the people who had given her back. Killian decided to keep her and grow with her. She didn't share the same name as her son either so she saw no point in keeping such a reminder of her childhood.

Despite Killian and Emma being content with their life at the moment there was one person in their family who still felt like they needed something. Henry wanted a pet. Regina wouldn't let him have one because she liked a clean house and Roland and Robin played with enough animals out in the woods. If Henry wanted one it would need to be at the Jones's cottage. Following that Henry had started Operation Puppy.

Emma was hesitant but Killian had immediately been on board. Perhaps that was because Henry's operations tended to work out in his favour; Operation Ornament certainly had. Killian had never had a puppy, a ship being no place for a dog. In the short time Killian had lived on land during his time at the Naval Academy he'd taken to feeding the strays in the streets of the city he'd lived in. It was the first time in his life since his mother's passing that he'd ever had enough to eat and he'd been keen to share in the search of finding another living being to fill the void Liam's temporary absence had caused. While that had happened three hundred years prior Killian still carried the fond memories of it.

Emma on the other hand did not. She had never had good experiences with any animal. Emma had said she'd had a few homes with dogs but they'd never been hers and they'd never liked her very much, one having bitten her. Emma had been is so young and alone and having even the animal that was supposed to be man's best friend hate her had been scarring. Killian could tell the idea of bringing in a dog after her limited experiences frightened her and that was where her fight was coming from.

But as with anything with Emma Swan, she just had to be shown it was okay.

Which was exactly why Killian was dragging Emma Swan into the animal shelter on her only day off.

"Killian, why are you doing this?" Emma asked, irritated as Killian pulled her through the shelter door. "You know how I feel."

"I also know how you felt about me at first meeting." Despite his irritation at the time he now looked back at being chained to the top of a beanstalk with fondness. Killian could see now that he'd fallen head over heels then, even if he'd not acknowledged it.

"But you're a person," Emma retorted, as if that would completely end the conversation. But a man unwilling to fight for what he wants…

"Didn't mean I was any better than a dog." Emma yanked her hand out of Killian's, not impressed at his words. Obviously that was a step too far.

"Killian, I don't want a dog. I've never had anything good happen with them. Why should that be any different now?" The receptionist was trying really hard not to watch Emma and Killian fight. And failing. Killian wished the receptionist would have the decency to disappear for a while.

"Because you are different now."

"You keep saying that but I don't feel any different right now." Emma looked down towards the floor, chewing at her lip. It was moments like that Killian could see the remnants of the hurting and scared child still in her.

Killian reached out and took Emma's hand and guided her towards the chairs. "I think you'll feel different about this one, love. We're picking our families now. When I was a boy, I was sold into slavery. I always wanted a pet, someone who would depend on me. But I never got it as a child. You can't look after someone when you have nothing to give. Maybe that was one of the issues you had as well? You needed someone to love you, Swan, and then even the pets weren't on good form. Of course you're hurt by the idea of Henry wanting to bring a dog into the family. But things are different now. You have a very determined son, a loving family, me, a home and a stable job. Those animals in there? They need a family and a home. I'm not going to force you into getting one but will you just come into the kennel with me and see the dogs?"

Emma chewed on her lip for a moment, glancing at the receptionist then the door that led to the kennels. "You make a convincing argument," she mumbled, somewhat hesitantly.

Killian grinned and stood, offering his hand once again. "Let's go see some animals."

Killian nodded at the receptionist as they entered the kennel section, the two side walls lined with about five cages each. As the door opened they were met with a flurry of barking. Emma stiffened for a moment. Killian leaned over to her ear. "They're just happy to see you."

In the first Kennel was a large German Sheppard, full grown and recently clipped. The dog bounced up to the gate. Killian offered his hook to the dog who gave it a sniff through the wire door of the kennel.

"Hello laddie," Killian murmured. The dog skittered back when the hook moved. Okay, so not that dog. They'd need to find one who wasn't scared of the weapon at the end of Killian's arm.

While Killian had been examining the German Sheppard Emma had slipped from his grasp and moved towards the back of the kennel. She was kneeling in front of a door. Emma offered her fingers to whatever animal was inside, a timidly curious look crossing her face. Killian hurried over, worried that the dog would react poorly and she'd run.

Inside the cage was a young dog, not yet groomed like the other dogs in the shelter. There was mud coating his legs and matting his white gold hair. It looked like a young retriever or maybe a lab. He sat towards the back of the kennel, watching Emma with a cocked head but not approaching.

"Hi boy," Emma whispered.

Killian grabbed the file hanging off the door and flipped through it. "Looks like he just arrived yesterday. They found the little guy on the streets, down near the docks a week ago. No one's looking for him so they brought him over from the holding pen at the vets."

"No home? Or were you kicked out of your home?" Emma asked but she wasn't talking to Killian. "I know what that's like." Killian took a step backwards, leaving Emma to do this by herself. "I bet underneath all that mud you're pretty handsome. A right old dashing rapscallion."

Killian snorted before he could stop himself. Emma glanced back at him, fingers still poking through the holes in the gate. When she looked away the puppy whined. Emma glanced back immediately, eyes widening at the sound. "It's okay, puppy. I haven't gone anywhere. I'm not going anywhere."

The softness of her voice stole Killian's breath. This was an Emma he rarely witnessed, the hardness of her exterior pulling back to reveal the loving and soft woman he desperately loved. She'd used that tone occasionally when Henry needed her. Emma was now sitting crossed legged in front of the pen.

"Puppy?" Emma asked, wiggling her fingers.

"Emma? What do you think?" The second she turned around to face Killian the puppy whined again, this time louder. Killian watched as the dog took a few steps towards her back.

Emma turned back and noticed that the dog had come closer. "Can you get the gate open?" she asked voice stronger now, pushing herself back a bit on the concrete floor. Killian smiled, knowing that her wanting to get at the dog meant Killian was close to winning this argument. "Don't worry, puppy," Emma cooed, watching the dog put its tail between its legs when Emma moved back a bit.

Killian moved forward and stuck his hook into the lock, twisting. A satisfying click sounded before the lock popped open and the door swung open. Emma immediately scrambled up, putting her hand out at the dog's eye level.

"Hello."

The dog took a step closer.

"What do you think?" Emma asked but Killian knew she was back to talking to the dog. She was back to using a tone Emma Swan would never use towards another person other than her son. "Do you want to try again? Are you brave enough to try another family?" Emma shifted down so she was sitting again inside the kennel. The dog watched her warily. "I know it's tough. And scary. But I promise this will be your last home. We'll keep you."

Was this the inner monologue Emma Swan would tell herself each time she got moved? Was this how she'd get in and out of those vans she'd told him about one night when explaining why she'd never buy a van of her own? It broke his heart because no one ever kept her as a child. Emma had had to find her own home as an adult, always forced to stand on her own two feet. And yet, here she was, offering her a place in her life to an animal who'd gone through a similar thing not thirty minutes after yelling at him for being forced to go to the shelter.

"She means it, laddie," Killian put in, keeping her voice low. Emma didn't turn around to him, never taking her eyes off the dog, but she tilted back a bit to make sure she could hear him properly. "There's no one in this world who can love as fiercely as Emma Swan."

"He's lying. Killian Jones is a big softy," Emma whispered to the dog, as if sharing a secret. Killian just smiled, shaking his head. "We have a nice house that's near the beach you can play at. And a big backyard if you don't like swimming. And I have a son, Henry, who's thirteen now and really wants a puppy. Henry would love you." As Emma spoke the dog had crept forwards and they were now nearly nose to nose. "It sounds too good to be true doesn't it? It always sounds that way. But this time it isn't too good, it's just good enough. And enough is okay, right? You and I, we've spent a lot of time without enough, yeah? But I promise, things are going to change for you. So what do you say, want to come home?"

Killian felt the air leave his lungs as he watched the little puppy crawl into Emma's lap and curl up, as if preparing to go to sleep. Somehow, those words Emma had spoken had calmed the dog, reassured him that nothing bad would happen this time. Emma gave a shaky little laugh and reached down to scratch behind the dog's ears.

"I take it that means yes?" Killian asked, coming closer slowly until he was standing just behind his wife. Emma gave a nod before shifting so the dog was in her arms. The dog wiggled for a moment, unsure, before settling and allowing Emma to pick him up as if he were a large and furry baby.

"A big yes," Emma answered. When she turned to him Killian noticed the tears that had gathered in her eyes, unshed, but making the emerald depths seem bottomless. Killian leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to her cheek, the dog held between them. The puppy squirmed and Killian pulled back with a laugh.

"Let's go get home then."

Emma led the way out of the kennel and towards the desk. She held onto the puppy, nuzzling him with her face, a movement the puppy was copying against her shoulder.

"We'll be taking this little lad then, Miss." Killian said, leaning against the desk and catching the receptionist's attention.

"That's a bit of a surprise," the woman replied, glancing towards Emma with an amused and curious smile.

"Our family finds people, sometimes very unexpectedly."

Emma looked up at the familiar words, giving a small grin. Both Emma and Killian had spent their entire lives attempting to find family. Why should a stray dog be any different? The Jones-Mills family were all strays. Emma had been tossed around the foster care system and turned to a life of crime because no one had wanted her. Killian had lost his whole family, some through abandonment, others through death and become the Scourge of the Seven Seas. Henry had found Emma because he hadn't felt like he belonged with his adopted family. The boy had hated Regina back then. They'd all been searching and getting kicked around their whole lives. Until coming together. Taking home a puppy who'd also been abandoned just made sense.

"Do you have a name for the puppy?" the woman behind the desk asked as she filled out paper work.

Killian looked back at Emma. "What about Rapi?" Emma suggested. "Like as in rapscallion?" At the new name the dog's tail began to wag, hitting Emma's leg. They both grinned at the sign. Killian knew Henry would get a kick out of the name too. And the dog's reaction to it.

"Sounds good, love. Nice to meet you Rapi," Killian greeted, gesturing with his hook towards the dog. The dog just looked at the sharp steel before laying back against Emma's chest. Killian gave a nod towards their brave new dog.

The woman filled in a few more blanks before offering Killian the paper. "Sign here, please." Killian did so after taking her offered pen. "Congratulations on your new family member."


	15. The Nursery

_A/N:_ Hope you all enjoy this chapter! It's a big step forward for our lovely little family. Originally there was only going to be one more chapter after this one but it was getting long and the transition was going to be a little weird so I think I'm going to break it up into two, which means two more chapters after this one. The next one is my last prompt for the story- Mary Margaret teaching Killian to drive. That one is finished (I'm starting to realize I end lost of chapters with dialogue as well which I'm not sure how to feel about) and the last one I'll work on this week. That's why I'm putting this one up earlier than expected. Thanks so much for the response on the last chapter and the story as a whole. Reviews make this process so wonderful and they make my day to get them. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

It had started with a stomach flu. But then it hadn't ended despite the aches passing. Killian was beside himself with worry every time Emma woke up and ran to the bathroom. It went on for weeks. Henry spent most of his time at Regina's in an attempt not to get Emma's plague. Mary Margaret kept a close watch on the situation, asking strange questions about Emma's diet but never giving the opinion that Emma knew she was anxious to give.

By the second week Emma was starting to think that it wasn't actually a flu anymore. By the nineteenth day she knew it wasn't. And that was terrifying for her. All the memories of sitting in her prison cell and staring down at that white test stick in her hands came flooding back. Eighteen and terrified. Alone.

It was why she didn't tell Killian when she started suspecting something. She knew Killian wouldn't leave but they hadn't exactly been trying for a child, content to just spend the first year of their marriage as just the two of them and Henry. But now they were only four months into their marriage. How would Killian take the surprise? Would he be upset? Angry? Think that Emma was trying to trick him?

Turned out Emma had been oh so wrong about how Killian would react. When Emma had come home from the hospital after her appointment under the impression of getting medicine for her flu, she'd presented Killian with the file Whale had given her. Killian had read it quickly then looked up at her, wonder in his eyes.

"Is it true," he'd asked?

Emma had nodded, too scared to say the word out loud. _Pregnant. Baby. Expecting._

"I'm going to be a father?" Killian had asked before quickly amending, "to a little baby? I love Henry more than my life but, I'm going to have someone to teach to walk?"

Once again Emma had nodded.

"Emma, say something love. You're scaring me. Are you okay with this?"

Emma wasn't sure if she was okay. She was warring between excitement that she was adding to their family and panic. Emma could already see the little boy with curly black hair running around and pretending to be a pirate while Emma pulled out her hair trying to control his magical mishaps. Or the little girl who could control and bend Captain Hook to her will so well that Emma would consider taking notes on the technique. But what if she couldn't be a mother? She only became a real mom when Henry was ten. She'd missed all the diapers and late nights. And what if Henry was angry? What if he got upset and thought she was replacing him? She didn't want that but she did want this pregnancy.

"Emma, we're going to be okay. Henry will be okay and will be an amazing big brother. Like Liam was for me." It was as if Killian was reading her mind. But she was an open book to him so why did Emma suspect she'd be able to panic without him noticing?

"My last pregnancy was a terrible experience. I didn't even see Henry before he was given away. I missed everything. What if Henry thinks I'm replacing him to try and do it better this time?"

"If he does I'll talk to him. Neither one of us were expecting this nor are we replacing Henry. I would never replace the boy. That boy was my first time being an actual father because I wasn't that for Bae. I can't deny though that I want a child to call me papa. I want a child with you."

Emma had cried after that for the whole night. She had cried for the years she'd lost with Henry. She had cried for the days of morning sickness, hunched over the toilet in her cell. She'd cried for the resistance she'd had at first over staying in Storybrooke for Henry and how she had been scared she would be a terrible mother. She cried for the fear that still lingered and had flared when Whale had told her she was expecting. Killian held her and reassured her that yes, he was scared too but he was also excited. Killian had cried with her when Emma's excitement started the win over the panic. They were going to be parents. _Parents._

After their night alone Emma had called Henry to the cottage. She'd paced in front of the couch while Killian and Henry sat, watching her, waiting, Rapi in between looking bored. Eventually Henry had sighed. "I'm going to be a big brother aren't I?" he'd asked. That had stopped Emma in her tracks. Killian had burst out laughing and the boy just shrugged. "I'm thirteen. I'm not oblivious." Henry had assured them he wasn't upset and was hoping for a baby brother but he'd not said much else. Emma had been too shocked and distressed to look for a lie behind his words.

And now, three months later, Emma was just starting to show. With the end of the first trimester the morning sickness had stopped. Henry was staying more with them now that he wasn't woken up every morning with Emma's retching but still spent five or six days a week with Regina. It was comforting to Emma and her pregnancy hormones to have Henry back with them more often. At night she still convinced herself that Henry was staying so much with Regina because he secretly hated her. In the morning it was easier to see that that probably wasn't the reason because Regina and Robin had Robin and Zelena's baby and Roland in the house. But still, Henry was quieter and hadn't come up with a new operation to share with Emma since her pregnancy announcement. It left Emma confused. And worried.

"Emma, love, would you like some hot chocolate?" Killian asked, walking into the kitchen where Emma sat eating the healthy and sugarless cereal Killian had insisted she buy for breakfast instead of her bear claws. It was both adorable and annoying in equal measure, both reactions Killian got whenever he bought a new box, depending on the mood her hormones had put her in that day. But Killian never stormed out in anger, just raised a brow, gave her a smirk and filled her bowl anyways.

"Sure, thanks. Make one for Henry too?" she asked, leaning back against her chair, hand going to rest against her belly. It was a subconscious move now, a reassuring action. Rapi looked up from where he'd curled up at Emma's feet. Emma rubbed a sock foot over his golden fur and the dog fell back to sleep.

"I didn't know Henry was coming over until tonight." Killian moved around the kitchen, pulling down the supplies he needed to make the sweet drink. At the sound of the cupboard doors opening Rapi decided that the promise of food was more important than the petting Emma was giving him with her foot. Killian stopped to give the dog's head a rub before continuing on.

"I called Henry just before you came down and asked him if he wanted to help me paint the nursery since you just got the supplies."

They were going to convert the guest bedroom into the nursery to be ready for when the baby arrived, even though they planned to let the child sleep in their bedroom in a bassinet for the first while. They didn't know the gender yet but whatever it was the ocean would be in his or her veins so Killian and Emma had decided that a light blue, the colour of a sky with pure white clouds so thin that it diluted the colour would be suitable. The furniture would be white and a fluffy rug would cover the wooden floor. After Emma and Killian had announced the pregnancy at a party at Granny's toys and other baby supplies had already begun arriving from people of the town, looking to give presents to the new baby prince or princess. Marcus had offered to make them the crib and other needed furniture, just as he had made the crib Emma was supposed to use back in the Enchanted Forest. The nursery set wasn't supposed to arrive until closer to the due date but Emma wanted the walls done while she could still help do it. The only thing in the room was a boxes that the toys and baby blankets had been placed for now.

Killian gave her a gentle smile. "That's a really good idea, love. I think it will be good for you to spend some time with the boy."

Rapi turned from where he'd been following Killian around and ran to the door, barking excitedly. "Henry's here," Emma said, stating the obvious. "Rapi, give him a minute to get in." The dog didn't listen and kept making noise, tail hitting against the wall by the door while he waited for one of his favourite people to appear.

The door opened and Henry's voice filtered into the kitchen as he greeted Rapi. Henry groaned a bit as he bent and picked the dog up, making a show of how much he had grown since bringing him home. Henry had loved Rapi, just as Killian predicted and let the dog sleep on his bed whenever he stayed the night. Henry often joked that they would need to get him a bigger bed because Rapi took up so much space.

"In here, kid," Emma called, turning in her chair to watch Henry come in, dog held up like a much smaller baby than he actually was.

"Hey Mom, Killian."

"Hello, lad." Killian brought over two hot chocolates when Henry sat beside Emma after putting down Rapi and handed them over. "Ready to do some painting?"

"Ready to try. I'm an author remember, not an artist."

"Either am I," Emma answered, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. "If all else fails I'll magic the paint on the wall and we'll just tell everyone we slaved away on it."

"I won't tell if you won't," Henry replied, giving a smile. The little smile reassured Emma that Henry didn't hate her for bringing a baby into the mix. Any emotion other than that? Emma couldn't tell.

"Well, I'm going to go to the Jolly. Need to get her ready now that winter's passing." Killian pressed a quick kiss to Emma cheek and one to her belly. "I'll take Rapi so he stays out of your painting." Killian gave a whistle and Rapi jumped up and followed him out of the house.

"How's school?" Emma asked, turning to Henry. He shrugged.

"Busy. They're prepping us for high school."

"I can't believe you're going to high school next year, kid," Emma replied with a shake of her head. She could still remember the little ten year old who'd showed up at her door all that time ago. So much had changed since then but Henry had been the one unwavering aspect in her life since.

"I'm not a baby anymore," Henry retorted, standing, the chair scraping across the floor. "Is the paint in the nursery?" In her shock Emma could only nod before watching Henry stomp out of the room and up the stairs. Henry never snapped at her. The word choice of baby sent warning signs through her mind. Maybe asking Henry to help prep the room was a bad idea. Maybe Henry thought the whole baby thing was a bad idea.

With a sigh Emma pushed herself up, groaning a bit at how her growing belly was changing her movement. It was strange after a decade to get used to her body changing again. To be fair though, being pregnant and working and being with her family was a very different experience than being pregnant and in a jail cell. This time around it wasn't the same at all.

This time there more tears but less panic. She could cry without fear of seeming weak, something that she was very conscious of in prison. She could chose when to go to see the doctor, would be able to find out the gender and actually appreciate it, pick names and picture what the baby would look like. She had parents who were keen to help, a husband who was beyond doting, and a son- well, she was going to figure that out now.

Emma climbed the stairs and turned into the baby nursery to find Henry already bent over the paint cans, stirring the pigment up and pouring it into trays for rollers. Emma stopped in the doorway, watching her son. His movements were sharp and tense, jumping back with a huff when it splashed out onto the wood floor.

Emma flicked her wrist before Henry could find a rag, removing the paint from the floor. "Henry," she called, watching her son stiffen then turn, trying to wipe the anger off his face in a style Emma recognized from her own repertoire. Hide and they can't get you, right? "We need to talk."

"I'm sorry I snapped."

Emma shook her head. "Not about that. We need to talk about the baby."

Henry sighed, hand going to scratch behind his ear. This movement she also recognized and had to fight the smile it caused. "I thought we already talked about it, like months ago."

Emma walked into the room and sat on the box that was currently holding all the new baby blankets and swaddling cloths. "Yeah, we did. But I don't think we talked about what we needed to."

"What's there to talk about? In five months a baby will be here and I'm going to be a brother."

"Then why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?" Henry pretended to sound confused but Emma could see that he knew he'd been caught.

"You're angry. You barely spend any time here now even though Rapi's here and you wanted the dog. And don't say it's to avoid the noise. That dog makes a quarter of the noise of Zelena's kid."

Despite himself Henry snorted before sobering. "I really hate your superpower." Henry slid to the ground, sitting, then pulled his knees up to his chest.

"Henry, you know this isn't going to change us."

"It is. You and Killian are having a kid. Your _own_ kid."

" _You're_ my kid, Henry. You're always going to be my kid, even when you're getting married and I'm finding all kinds of embarrassing stories to tell your bride."

Henry was quiet for a few moments, chewing on his lip. Emma just waited quietly. "But you gave me away."

"Oh, Henry." Emma moved off the box to sit next to Henry. He looked away. A tear streaked down Henry's cheek. Emma fought off a wave of pregnancy hormones threatening to make her blubber again. "I couldn't keep you. You know that."

"But I've got all these fake memories of growing up with you. We were okay. We were happy." Henry sounded a bit hysterical, as if he really had no idea what was going on but was clinging to what he'd convinced himself of.

"I have those memories too but I also remember what my life was like back then for real. Prison was no place to have a newborn. Henry, I was eighteen, your father had abandoned me and I was serving time for a crime I didn't commit. I'd lived in the system my whole life so I had no home to go back to. I lived in my car for months before moving to Boston. Having a three month old in a car in winter? You may not have survived it." Emma turned around to face Henry who was studiously looking down at his hands. "Giving you up was the hardest decision I've ever had to make. If I could have kept you I would have, but giving you up was your best chance."

"I didn't know that," Henry replied, sounding guilty.

Emma laid a hand on Henry's knee. "I'm not saying this to make you feel bad. I'm trying to explain that I did it because I had to. And think about your home with Regina? I know it wasn't always great but you had more than I could have ever given you and now you have two families." Henry looked up and gave her a little smile. "Killian and I having this baby doesn't mean we don't love you, or that we love this baby any more than you. Killian's told me over and over how much you mean to him and how important it was that you let him be that father figure for you. It's because of you that he's so excited to have this baby. You showed him he can be a good father."

"Killian is pretty good at that."

"He really is," Emma replied, feeling warm. Killian would be a wonderful father for the baby.

"I'm sorry I've been avoiding you guys. I just-" Henry gave his head a little shake. "I guess I was just confused with my memories because they seemed so real and it hurt me that you chose to keep this baby but not me."

"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you before this. I need you to be honest with me though, Henry. I need you with this pregnancy. I've been so scared and I miss you."

"I missed you too." Henry leaned over and wrapped his arms around Emma.

"Love you, kid," she whispered, trying out the nickname again.

"Love you too, Mom," Henry answered, equally quiet.

When Henry pulled back Emma examined the paint in the trays. "Why don't I magic this onto the walls and we go watch some Netflix?"

"I won't tell if you don't."

Later that evening Killian found Emma and Henry on the couch, Emma napping while Henry scribbled away in his notebook, Granny's takeout wrappers spread across the coffee table. Rapi disturbed their peace by exploding into the room and jumping on Emma. Henry burst out laughing and despite her rude awakening Emma had to smile because this is what she'd been desperately missing. It made the whole pregnancy less scary now that she wasn't worried about losing Henry. Now she could enjoy it without that dark cloud hanging over her.

"Get the nursery done?" Killian asked as Henry lifted the dog off his mother.

"Yup, just finished," Henry answered, stretching before winking at his mother behind her husband's back. "Looks great."

"Excellent, are you staying the night, Henry? Or do you want me to walk you to the Queen's residence?"

Henry glanced over at Emma, eyes drifting down to where her hand was rubbing contently across her swelling belly. "I think I'll stay."


	16. The Car- Part I

_A/N:_ I've finally finished writing this story! The last chapter, the second part of this, will be up in a few days (maybe tomorrow if you guys really want it)! This chapter sets up the next. I quite like the next chapter as it's got a bit of Captain Charming, a bit Captain Believer, and you finally get to meet the baby! Thank you all so much for your support on this, especially over on Tumblr (my tumblr is Slimacwrites!). I'm blown away and so very thankful. Enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Eight months. Emma was eight months along, her belly swollen and her back sore. She'd moved past the hormone filled second trimester to the impatient stage. She couldn't sleep because the belly was so heavy that it got in the way and that meant Killian didn't either. But that didn't matter because the baby was four weeks away. _Four weeks._

Killian was practically beside himself, partly terrified that he'd be a terrible father and partly desperate to hold the baby in his arms. They'd found out several months ago that they were having a little boy. Emma hadn't even hesitated, announcing that the baby would be named Liam David Jones. Killian had already been close to crying when he'd heard that he'd be having a son but at the name he'd asked the doctor to leave and let the emotion free. Liam, his headstrong and noble brother would live again in his baby boy. It was just too much to handle.

A lot of the pregnancy was too much to handle because he couldn't do much for Emma. Killian couldn't take the discomfort from his wife, couldn't help her sleep beyond staying up and rubbing her back and feet which was made harder by only having one hand. Killian still hadn't mastered swaddling the teddy bears Mary Margaret made him practice on to make sure he could operate the hook around the baby. Killian knew he was capable but the worry of a new father was enough for him to doubt his abilities.

Killian hated not being able to fix everything. He wanted to provide for Emma more than running to the store to get whatever food she was craving or changing the orientation of the furniture in the nursery around for the millionth time, which was exactly what he was doing now.

The door downstairs opened and Rapi began to bark, scrambling downstairs from where he'd been napping with Emma. A feminine voice greeted the excited dog, letting him know that his mother-in-law had arrived, unexpectedly. Mary Margaret had taken to doing that more and more often as Emma got closer to her due date, helping to decorate the nursery or talk to Emma about what was normal or not during pregnancy. Soft feet padded up the stairs as Mary Margaret followed the dog upwards, Rapi leading her to where the people were.

"Good afternoon, milady," Killian greeted when Mary Margaret entered the nursery, carrying a pack of newborn diapers.

"Hi Killian," she replied, placing the supplies in the drawer under the changing table. "How's Emma?"

"Asleep, thankfully. The babe kept her up all night."

"Good, she'll need as much rest as she can get before Liam arrives," Mary Margaret said with a nod, a warm feeling filling Killian, as it did every time someone said his boy's name. "I've not come to see Emma though. This time I'm here to see you."

"Oh?" Killian asked, putting the toys back on the bookshelf Emma had had him moving.

"You need to learn to drive. When Emma goes into labour she's not going to be able to drive and David may be busy with our truck which leaves you since I'll be working if she goes during the day."

Killian scratched the back of his head. He'd been in this world for quite a while now but he'd still never managed to learn to drive. It wasn't as if he could just pick it up as he had operating the television and it wasn't something he particularly wanted to ask David, both his best mate and father-in-law how to do. Driving had never been a problem before because Emma could take him anywhere or he was never in so much of a rush that his own two feet couldn't carry him to the place he needed to be. But Mary Margaret did raise a good point about Emma's labour.

"What do you suggest then?" Killian asked, leaning down to give Rapi's ear a scratch.

"I'm going to teach you."

"You?" Killian didn't mean for it to come out in such a surprised tone but she was a queen. Queens didn't teach people how to drive an ancient Bug. Mary Margaret just rolled her eyes.

"Yes, me. I do know how to drive and you need to learn before the due date. With David covering Emma's shifts at the station along with his own I'm your only option."

Killian sighed. "Okay. If you do not mind teaching an old pirate a new trick, I shall learn how to drive."

Mary Margaret smiled brightly, bouncing a bit on her toes. "You leave a note for Emma, I'll go get the car started and backed out. You are definitely not reversing the Bug around David's truck."

"Emma's okay to leave? She really could have her baby any time now." Killian glanced out the door, as if he could see through the walls to see Emma sleeping.

"Emma's fine. She'll call if she needs you. It's best we do this now this now before she's even closer. The dog will keep her company while we're gone."

Killian sighed because his mother-in-law was right. With a quiet whistle Rapi followed him out of the nursery and into Emma's room. Grabbing the top sheet of paper from the pad on the dresser Killian scrawled a note and left it on Emma's pillow, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "Stay here and watch, Swan, yeah? Be a good boy." The dog sat, as if understanding and with a nod Killian shut the bedroom door and followed Mary Margaret downstairs.

By the time Killian had his coat and boots on Mary Margaret had already turned the car around so the front was facing the road. Killian scratched behind his ear. He'd never driven but he'd commanded a full rigged pirate ship for nearly three centuries. How bad could Emma's little metal vessel be?

Killian let him out of the house and met Mary Margaret in the driveway who was jingling Emma's keys in front of her.

"Okay, so first thing's first," she trilled. "You need to learn how to turn on the car." She gestured to the open car door and Killian got in, letting out a grunt when he ended up squished against the wheel. "Oh, and adjust your seat," Mary Margaret added sheepishly. "I forgot I was shorter than you." Mary Margaret pointed at a bar just under the seat. "Give that a tug and push backwards."

Killian did as he was told and the seat slid back, opening up room for his legs. With a little shimmying he got the seat far enough away from the wheel that he wasn't resting his chin on his knees but close enough that he could press the pedals that were sitting rather ominously under his feet.

With a satisfied nod Mary Margaret hurried around the front of the car and got in the passenger seat. She buckled herself in and Killian copied the movement, using his hook around the belt to pull it over himself and his hand to snap it in place.

"Okay, next, this is what you need to remember." Mary Margaret leaned over the center console and pointed to a slot behind the wheel. "This is where the key goes. You put it in and turn it until the engine comes on then let go. Turn it back towards you until the engine shuts off to turn the car off." Killian put the key in the ignition and turned it forward, grinning to himself when the car rumbled to life beneath them. He turned the key the other way and the engine cut.

"Good. Now this is your rear-view mirror. Adjust it so you can see behind you." Killian reached up and moved it around until he could see the grill of David's truck. "The mirrors on the side don't really adjust in this thing anymore but you can use them too to see behind you and the sides of your car." Killian nodded, glancing towards them. He went over it in his head- ignition, turn it towards the bow of the car and it turns on, towards the stern and the vessel shuts off, rear-view mirror to see the stern of the car and the road behind, side mirrors don't move. That wasn't too much right now. But he hadn't actually started moving yet.

"Beneath your feet are the pedals. Do _not_ get them mixed up. On the left side is the brake, on the right side is the gas. The brake pedal is larger. The tiniest one is the clutch. Gas means go. Break means stop. The farther you press the gas pedal in, the faster the car will go, so for you, don't press too much. The clutch is for changing gears but for how slow you're going to go you won't need to worry too much about changing gears. You hit the gas and break with your right foot and the clutch with your left."

Killian pressed the pedals with the feet Mary Margaret instructed. The heel of his boot caught on the edge of the gas pedal as he tried to move his foot. Mary Margaret leaned over at the noise and Killian sighed. Killian could only imagine what trying to combine that with steering would be like. "Don't lift your foot, just pivot. Try again." Killian tried again, this time doing it right. "Good. Now we figure out the gear shift."

What followed was a half an hour of further instructions as she explained the gear shift and when to move it and how, making Killian pull the shifter while pressing the clutch at the same time. Once Mary Margaret was satisfied that he wouldn't completely destroy the car trying to control it she pushed back into her seat.

"Okay, turn it on."

"What? Now?" Killian asked, ringing his hand around the wheel. Killian would rather sail The Jolly through miles of reefs and shallow waters than try and move this garishly yellow vessel.

"You get the mechanisms enough to drive. We've already been out here for forty-five minutes. Emma will be up soon. Come on, just up and down the road a few times, okay?"

"As the lady commands," Killian replied, somewhat reluctantly. With a deep breath Killian turned the key and pressed the clutch, easing the car into neutral. They idled for a few moments, giving the engine a chance to heat up a bit.

"Okay, now into first gear," Mary Margaret instructed. As taught Killian pressed in the clutch and shifted the gear behind the wheel upwards into the first slot. He then let go of the clutch and tapped the gas with his other foot and the car lurched forwards. Emma definitely did that smoother. "It's okay," Mary Margaret said, grabbing onto the handle on the roof, the oh shit bar as Emma called it, the action belaying her calm tone. "Try again. Easier this time."

Killian pressed the gas pedal slowly, the car easing forward out of the driveway. Killian used his hand and hook to turn the car onto the road, thankful not for the first time that they lived on such a quiet and out of the way road.

Steering the car was easy. It was like a more responsive Jolly but essentially it worked the same. Shifting as Mary Margaret asked was not as easy. They stalled twice, Killian cursing violently each time then apologizing profusely to the queen.

"It's okay, Killian," Mary Margaret said as they started forward again. "You're doing great for your first time."

"I need to be able to get Emma to the hospital, not stop in the middle of the road," Killian replied, thoroughly annoyed at himself for not being able to control the car as well as he would The Jolly. If only he could sail his ship to the hospital.

"You can get Emma there. It doesn't matter how rough the ride is. You just need to get there." Killian sighed, squeezing the wheel until his knuckles went white. "How about we stop. I think you've got the idea." Killian nodded and pulled into the driveway, following Mary Margaret's instructions on how to stop and park, shoulders sagging with relief now that the car was off. He was just so frustrated and exhausted from trying to drive and failing miserably at times.

"It's going to be okay, Killian," Mary Margaret said softly, laying a hand on his shoulder, as if sensing the change of atmosphere in the car. "You don't have to have all the answers in this situation. All new parents get scared and bumble around."

"Emma's not a new parent. She's going to know what to do."

"Killian, this is your nerves talking and making you forget. Emma never raised Henry. Yes, she's a mother, but Emma became a mother to a ten year old, not a newborn. She's scared too. It's normal to be afraid of holding the baby, or changing it. David and I were terrified when we had Neal because we never raised Emma. We were essentially, as horrible as it was, new parents. Just like you. I was terrified to let Neal out of my sight and it took us weeks to figure out how to set up the stroller without nearly breaking it every time we took it out of the car. But we made it through and look at Neal now- a toddler who doesn't know what sleep is."

Killian raked a hand through his hair, pulling it up at the ends. It was strange to be talking to his mother in law, who was younger than him, about his fears of being a father. But it wasn't something he wanted to tell Emma. To Emma he wanted to seem calm and excited, not more terrified than he had been any other time in his life. Emma had been so brave about everything, even though Killian knew see panicked at times when she didn't think he could see. How could he be anything less that prepared for his beautiful Swan?

"Killian, you're going to be a wonderful father. David and I, we have no doubt of that. I hope that by now we've convinced you that we care about you and want you to be a part of our family for good. You're not the pirate we first met and judged you on. You make our daughter so happy."

Killian glanced down at his lap to hide the blush that was rising. These few months had shaken his confidence because he was so scared about having the baby so it was nice to hear that Mary Margaret still believed in him.

"Thank you, milady. It's hard when one doesn't know what to expect."

Mary Margaret laughed. "Now you know exactly how it feels to be a parent to be. I'll let you in on some hints though- Emma will shout horrible things at you during birth. This happens and she means nothing she says. Birth, even with all the drugs, is very painful. You'll both be upset about it. But when the baby arrives and you hear that first cry, well, it all goes away. It's beautiful and peaceful and you'll probably both cry too."

"You've not exactly reassured me," Killian replied. Emma had enough of a temper on a regular day. He would be lying if he said he wasn't a bit scared about what Emma would come up with during birth. But Mary Margaret was right- just thinking about holding his baby boy- it did reduce the fear a bit, the emotion swallowed up by a growing excitement.

Mary Margaret laughed and got out of the car. "At least now you know."


	17. The Car- Part II

_A/N:_ So here it is, the last chapter. I hope you all think it's okay. I'm not sure how to feel about it- I've lost steam with this story so I'm glad the plan I had to end it coincided with that. If you like my writing, my next multi-chapter AU, In The Key of G, will be out in a few weeks. I've already got 5 chapters written and I'm in love with it. Thank you all for your support with this story, especially since it was a different type of fic than I usually do. I really appreciate it. All the favourites and follows and views were great and kept me writing but the reviews made my day! So, thanks. Let me know what you think of the end of Operation Albatross. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators, Adam and Eddie!

No matter what Mary Margaret had told him, nothing could have prepared Killian for being woken up by a panicked yell from downstairs a week before the due date. Blood instantly running cold and expecting the worst, like a new villain having appeared in the kitchen or Emma finally killing Grumpy for not leaving her alone for her maternity leave, Killian vaulted out of bed, hook left behind on the bedside table in his haste. He sprinted down the stairs, Rapi on his heels to find Emma in the kitchen, cereal bowl in her hands and staring at the floor.

"What is it?" Killian asked, gasping for breath.

"The baby. I- I thought the pain was just hunger since I haven't had much of an appetite but-"

"What's wrong with Liam?" Killian interrupted, falling to his knees in front of her, only stopping when his knees touched moisture. His mind whirled, trying to place what was going on. And then it clicked. "Emma?"

She nodded, grinning. "It's time."

Killian jumped up, hooting, Rapi giving a surprised bark at the noise. "It's time," he shouted before bending to Emma's stomach. "It's time, Liam!"

Emma gave a laugh before pushing him away. "Go get dressed. I'll grab the bag and call Mom to come get us." They had a plan for labour and Emma seemed much better at remembering it than Killian, whose mind was focused only on the baby coming.

With a nod Killian rushed back up the stairs, pulling on the first pair of jeans and shirt that he could find. Killian grabbed his hook, debating for a moment whether he should put it on. The hook would be useful for driving and the baby books had said they might be in for a long day so his mobility might be important. But on the other hand did he want to be wearing his hook the first time he held the baby?

A cry of pain from Emma made the decision for him, Killian snapping the hook back into place as he hurried to find her in the baby nursery doubled over in pain, the dog running circles around her feet. Killian swatted Rapi away before easing his arm around Emma's shoulders.

"What is it? A contraction?"

Emma nodded, breathing hard, hand clenched around Killian's arm. A few more seconds passed before Emma gave a sigh of relief and stood. "We have to get to the hospital. Now."

"Hospital. Okay. Come on, love." Killian grabbed the baby bag from where Emma had dropped it before once again slinging his arm around his wife. "Did you call your mother?" They started down the stairs, wobbling a bit as Emma's balance was thrown off by her large belly.

"I tried. She's at work already. So is Dad. But don't worry, the contractions should be far enough apart for me to drive." Despite the practice Killian had had with driving he still wasn't confident. Emma knew that and they had agreed that if they left during the early part of the labour they would be able to make it to the hospital around the contractions. Killian had suggested poofing themselves there but that idea had been tossed out quickly because they didn't want Emma to use too much of her energy before the labour.

They were at the bottom of the stairs when Emma cursed and bent again, leaning heavily on Killian. Contractions weren't supposed to be this close this early according to the books Belle had given him.

"Swan, why are they coming so fast?"

"This isn't my first child," Emma answered, panting through the contraction. "It happens faster the second time around and this child may just be in a hurry." Emma stood again, leaning her whole weight on Killian now. "Shit, Killian. I don't think I can drive." There was a slight hysterical note to her voice.

Killian bit his tongue to keep from cursing. He needed to stay calm. For Emma and for Liam. "It's alright, love. I can do it." With a slight grunt Killian pulled Emma into his arms and walked them towards the door. A quick wave of her wrist and the door opened before them. "Hold on, Swan," he whispered, starting down the deck stairs and across the lawn to the car.

Killian set Emma on the passenger seat before hurrying around the front of the car and getting in. Drawing in a deep breath, Killian realized he was going to reverse out of the driveway- something he'd never done before.

Killian started the car, drawing in another slow breath in the time it took for the car to warm up. Killian shifted into reverse, letting out the clutch. Emma groaned, pushing back in her seat at the same time the Bug stalled. Killian cursed, feeling sweat starting to bead on his forehead.

"It was supposed to go to neutral first," Emma told him, patience wearing thin already. "You know what? Drive over the lawn, I'll fix it later."

Killian nodded, knowing better than to question her. Going forward was something he could do. Killian shifted to drive and swung around, accelerating over the lawn and onto the pavement. He kept going up Albatross Lane.

"Shift up gears. We need to go faster." Killian wanted to look over at Emma but he was terrified of taking his eyes off the road. He eased into the clutch like Mary Margaret had taught him, feeling it catch, then shifted up to second. The speedometer inched up to twenty then twenty five.

"Brake!" Emma shouted a minute later, reminding Killian to slow just in time to skid around the corner. Only his years as a captain made his hand agile enough on the wheel, spinning it sharply, the leather sliding under his hook until they'd made it onto Main Street. The engine whirred unhappily at the speed, the brakes grating, but they had once again reached a straight stretch of road.

"If we make it to the hospital, remind me to never let you drive again."

"Gladly," Killian huffed out, knuckles white as he scanned the street for people, hoping he wasn't about to go bowling with the Seven Dwarves. Thankfully people saw the speed, or Killian behind the wheel, and stayed to the sidewalk.

Killian kept driving, zipping along past the police station. As he did a siren blared and Emma looked behind them. Killian was too focused on staying between the lines to do the same.

"It's Dad," Emma told him, hand going down to her belly as another contraction hit.

"Well this is one way to tell him the baby's coming," Killian answered, not slowing down. David kept following them. Emma's phone began to buzz. She grabbed it, still bent over moaning with the contraction and hit speaker phone.

"What in the world are you doing Emma?" David's voice rang out. "As sheriff I'd hope you know the speeding laws."

"Not Emma, mate," Killian called.

"Killian?" There was a long pause. Killian waited, turning onto the street with the hospital. "Liam's coming?"

"I knew you'd get there eventually," Killian replied. Despite the stress he was unable to keep the joy from his voice.

"I do not appreciate your entertainment at my expense," Emma growled.

"Sorry sweetie," David replied. "I'll follow you to the hospital and call Snow to let her know. Do _not_ crash Killian. If you do I will arrest you."

"Will do." The phone clicked off from David's end but he stayed right on their tail.

"Nearly there, love." The hospital was just ahead of them.

"Good."

Killian downshifted, the car jolting with the poor clutch catch, so they could slow down. They entered the parking lot and Killian downshifted once more before throwing the car into neutral and shutting it down near the main door. David pulled in behind them as Killian got out and rushed around to Emma. On the way Killian tossed David the keys to the Bug.

"Park the car would you mate? I've got a son to meet." David rolled his eyes but nodded, giving Emma a kiss on the cheek before getting into the driver's side of Emma's Bug. "We'll see you inside."

Like back at the cottage Killian swept Emma up into his arms and carried her into the hospital, the hospital bag nestled against Emma's baby belly. She laid her head on his chest, the sweat on her forehead dampening his shirt. Killian felt a pang go through him. If he could take the pain from her he would. If he could Killian would protect her, and the little boy she carried, from any hurt in the world. But he couldn't. All he could do was stay beside her and help when he could.

"How are you carrying me like this?" Emma asked, staring up at him as they moved to the front desk. "You better hope this adrenaline continues until they get me a bed."

"I'll carry you forever if you need me to."

A nurse rushed over with a wheelchair. The wheelchair looked uncomfortable to Killian, causing him to debate whether he should just keep Emma in his own arms, but Emma, sensing his thoughts, wiggled out of his arms. Just as they got Emma settled and breathing through another contraction David showed up. The two men followed Emma and the nurse up to the maternity ward.

Emma climbed up onto the hospital bed and the nurse turned to Killian and David. "I'm just going to give Emma a checkup and see how far along she is. Why don't you two just step out for a moment?"

David nodded and turned, leaving the room quickly. Once again Killian hesitated. What if something happened when Emma was out of his sight? What if she needed something that only he could provide?

"Killian, I'll be fine," Emma said in a soft voice, trying to give him a reassuring smile.

"I promise I'll come get you Daddy when we're done," the nurse added. It was strange to hear someone refer to him as Daddy, especially this nurse that he didn't know. But Killian wasn't going to complain.

From behind, a hand grabbed Killian's arm, pulling him out of the room and into the hallway. Killian turned around to see David's understanding smile.

"It's okay, Killian. This is the process."

"But, Emma, she's in pain." Killian glanced back at the door that was now closed. "And who is that nurse anyways? Are we sure she's not a villain?"

David laughed. "That nurse's name is Jane. She is not a villain. Her daughter is in Mary Margaret's class. She's the maternity ward nurse and Emma's in good hands." Once again David took Killian's arm and guided him towards the chairs just down the hall. David sat but Killian couldn't, too much nervous energy coursing through him. "The nerves are natural. This is the final step before you get to hold your little boy."

"I don't know what I'm doing, Dave." Killian scraped his hand through his hair, yanking at it.

"Neither did I."

"But you're Prince Charming!"

There was no comparison. David exemplified everything good from the Enchanted Forest. He was noble and kind and brave and a bloody prince. David knew what he was doing. Had the ability to be a good father. But what about Killian? What did he have to match that?

"And you're Killian Jones." David was staying so calm but Killian wanted to run back to the room and bust in. The distance between him and his wife was starting to irritate Killian. He just wanted to see Emma. "Killian, I don't know how I can make you see this, but you're ready. Or as ready as anyone is to have a baby. You aren't a villain, you're a hero, you're not a pirate, you're a father. You've kept Henry level as he's matured. When you think about it, you've had far more experience as a father than I had when Neal arrived. Emma was an adult and didn't want us to parent for a while." David's words reminded Killian of what Mary Margaret had told him during their driving lesson. "I was terrified when Neal was born, not only because of Zelena but because I'd already been such a failure of a parent. You've never failed Henry. You're not going to fail Liam either."

"What if Liam doesn't like me?"

"Did the dashing and charming pirate just ask that? Don't you always tell us that about yourself?" Killian rolled his eyes at David's teasing.

"I'm being serious."

"Killian, your son will love you. You just have to be the good man I already know you are. You're not your father. You won't leave Liam and you already love him, that much is obvious. That's all Liam will need from you. You'll be okay."

And there it was, David had hit the reason Killian was feeling such a nervous fear crawling up into him. There was no father figure for Killian to follow other than David who he'd seen as an impossible standard. But maybe David wasn't? Maybe Killian could be a good father? Killian would never leave his son except for if he had to die for him. Killian would give that little boy the two realms, the whole sea and his entire heart. Whatever he asked because this son was a blessing he still wasn't sure he deserved.

Eventually Killian gave David a nod. "Thanks."

The nurse appeared in the hallway and waved them up. Killian practically ran to her. "All is well, Daddy. Will only be a couple of hours. Try to help Emma rest and relax for now, until the contractions get too bad. She can have some ice chips if she wants but that's all. I'll be back in a little while to give her an epidural."

Killian rushed into the hospital room, figuring David could talk to the nurse about anything else. It wasn't like his frazzled mind could remember the checklist of things to ask that was in the last baby book he'd borrowed from Belle. Emma was wearing a hospital gown and sitting up in bed, a contraption Killian didn't recognize strapped to her belly.

"How are you, love?"

"I'll be better when they give me the epidural," she pouted, reaching out for Killian. He took her hand, allowing her to pull him up on the bed with her. Emma rested her back against Killian's chest and he wrapped his arm around her.

"How's the pain now?"

"Not great. But it will be worth it."

"Aye, love. It will." Killian pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

About twenty minutes later Mary Margaret arrived with Henry. She fussed around Emma until David, noticing his daughter's irritation, pulled her away to go get coffee. Granny showed up about ten minutes later. Killian was about to ask her to leave as Emma was still feeling annoyed when he noticed what was in her hands; a baby blanket to match the one that Emma had kept through all her time in the system. Instead of purple ribbon as decoration it was blue, the name Liam embroidered into the knit with care. Emma took the white blanket after thanking Granny who brushed it off with bravado, pretending that she didn't just give Emma the most precious gift she could.

The epidural procedure nearly made Killian faint. Killian had seen a lot in his three hundred years, tortured many people with his own hand but he'd never seen something as frighteningly nasty as that long needle piercing Emma's back. He'd held her hand, only her tight squeezing keeping him grounded. Afterwards, Emma, despite the worsening contractions, was able to relax a bit and got a twenty minute nap.

Before Killian could process it the doctor and nurse were both in the room and it was time for Emma to push. Killian stayed near Emma's sweaty head, wiping her brow and whispering sweet nothings to her about how much he loved her and what a good job she was doing. The doctor guided her feet into stirrups, Killian watching it all with a dawning realization that the books hadn't prepared him for this.

Nowhere in the baby books did it say watch out for flying glass because your wife's out of control magic made the lightbulbs explode. Nowhere did it prepare him for the anguished screams and curses she flung at him. Nowhere did it prepare him for the dizzying adrenaline that filled him to the point where he felt as if he could float away. And certainly nowhere did it prepare him for the sound of Liam's first cry.

"It's a boy," the doctor shouted, holding up a rather small bundle. The nurse whisked the crying baby away, Killian ready to chase after her and steal the baby back. "She'll come back Daddy," the doctor said when he noticed the way Killian's hook was twitching. "She just has to weigh and measure the boy. For now, focus on Mommy." The words broke Killian out of his revere and he bent to Emma while the doctor finished up with Emma behind the sheet they'd had to put up to protect from the flying objects.

"You did brilliant, love," he whispered, voice cracking with emotion but trying to cover it with a kiss to her sweaty cheek. Their baby boy was now in the world.

"I couldn't have done it without you," she replied, head lolling against Killian's arm. "Though sorry I nearly impaled you."

Killian chuckled. "A small price to pay to be a father."

The nurse returned with a still fussing Liam. "Who wants to hold the baby?"

Emma nodded to Killian. "You first, my arms are feeling a little like jelly." Killian knew the feeling now that the adrenaline was fading away. But he'd never say no to holding his boy.

The nurse put the baby into his arms, Killian adjusting it just like Mary Margaret had taught him. Liam quieted immediately when he was against his father's chest, giving a little baby yawn that melted Killian right there. There was no Captain Hook toughness when he held that baby smaller than a loaf of bread. It was all soft Killian Jones, the man who had lived before his brother's death. It was as if Liam being born had returned Killian to the state he'd been in before the older Liam's death. The baby had a tuft of feather like black hair and the blue eyes all babies were born with. Liam had Emma's chin but there was an unmistakable likeness to his father. And even to his uncle with the rounder features.

"Hello, little lad. Welcome to the world." Liam snuggled further into the blanket wrapped around him. "I'm your Daddy and that beautiful woman right there," Killian gestured with his chin to Emma on the bed who was watching them with a soft smile, "is your Mommy. She's the most wonderful person in the world. Along with you of course." Killian bounced up and down a few times, smiling down at Liam. It wasn't until a tear drop hit the blanket that Killian realized he was crying.

A few moments later Killian reluctantly handed the baby to Emma, knowing how important seeing her newborn would be after having to send Henry away immediately. While Emma situated the baby in her arms Killian once again slid in behind her.

"He's so beautiful," Emma whispered, tears filling her eyes as well. "Thank you for giving me this Killian."

Before Killian could respond that she had given him this gift Henry hurried into the room, the calls from the hallway telling Killian that he may have busted into the room without permission. Henry rushed over to the bed. "Hi Mom, Dad," Henry said hurriedly. Killian heart filled as it always did when Henry let that name slip out when talking to him. Henry leaned over the bed to look into the bundle in Emma's arm. "And hello Liam."

Henry sat down next to Emma's legs and Emma immediately handed the baby over so Henry could meet his brother officially. Watching Henry hold Liam was something Killian hadn't expected to hit him as hard as it did. The three people sitting on the bed with him were his family. Despite all the evil things Killian had done in his life he'd been able to fight back and now he had a renovated cottage by the sea, a beautiful wife and _two_ sons- three if one counted the dog. It was more than he could have ever dreamed of asking for. It was everything.


End file.
